


Servant of Lilu, King of Eros

by SugarRay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Cock Worship, Exposition, F/M, Impregnation, Incubus Harry Potter, Light Femdom, Loss of Virginity, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Prostate Massage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-03-24 07:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13806732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarRay/pseuds/SugarRay
Summary: Dumbledore bestows Lily's journal on Harry, who discovers that his mother's protection came at a price, one that he must pay. The Boy Who Lived, who only wanted to be a normal boy with a loving family, discovers his destiny as an Incubus.





	1. Prologue: Rachel and Lilu

PROLOGUE

Turning the journal over in his hands again, Harry thought back to what Dumbledore had said to him when he had bestowed it. ‘I do not believe you will find answers here, Harry, but I… cannot presume to withhold your mother’s final wishes.’ Smeared across the burgundy cover in hasty finger-painted ink were the words “HE NEEDS TO KNOW.” Sirius had found it in the remains of Godric’s Hollow, safely nestled in Harry’s bedding. Both the Grim animagus and Hagrid believed ‘he’ to mean either Dumbledore or Harry, and had left the locked book with the elder wizard. Dumbledore had attempted to open it numerous times since, or so he related to Harry, but the lock seemed keyed to something else, something specific. ‘Again, it is not my place to tell you to forget your mother’s dying words, but… panic and pain are not what that wonderful woman should be remembered by.’

Doubly morbid, as he’d been handed the grimoire minutes after his return from Voldemort’s rise and the death of Cedric. Still, it had eaten at his curiosity, time and time again. His mother’s dying wish was for him to have this book. What was within that he had to know? And why must he know it? Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry recalled the look on Voldemort’s face as a dark pulse had driven the Dark Lord more than a body length away when he’d tried to approach the teen wizard. Clearly, Riddle had believed he would be capable of touching the young man after using his blood in the resurrection ritual, but something had stopped the lich; maybe this book could explain just what his mother had done to protect him.

Harry had tried to open the book a handful of times since receiving it, but nothing had worked. He’d even pricked his finger and bled into the damn thing, and nothing had happened. So why, now of all times, had it clicked open?

“Mmm… whatcha readin, luv?” Hands draped themselves over his shoulders as he felt a very warm body press into his back, the woman’s modest breast pleasantly flattening against his musculature. She brought her face to his shoulder, kissing his neck before resting her cheek on his trapezius, her hands crossing at the wrist in front of him. Grasping the spine of the tome in his left hand, he reached up with his right, grasping the woman’s elbow and pulling it to meet his face halfway, kissing her thin arm just above the joint at the bicep.

“My mother’s diary, I believe.”

“How very rude.”

“S’pose so.”

“Any particular reason being in bed with me reminded you of your mum’s diary?” He could feel her smiling against his skin.

“No. I just heard it unlock.”

She hummed into his neck. “And here I thought you’d been developing an Oedipus complex.”

“Cute.” He smirked. “I’d been trying to unlock it for months…”

The blonde woman slowly slid her hands down Harry’s surprisingly toned torso. “Well, had you shown it this?” Both of her hands wrapped around his hardening shaft. Biting his earlobe, she added. “I know it opened me right up.”

Smirking again at her comment, the sole remaining Potter turned, grabbing a random object and stuffing it under the cover of the journal, propping it open so it couldn’t lock itself again. Standing, he turned to her, his cock pointing at her accusatorily. With a giggle, she leaned forward, kissing it on the head cutely. She looked up at him, her hands on his hips, grinning and blinking innocently.

“Look at you, trying to act all pure with the act still staining your back.”

The girl smirked lightly, leaning forward to kiss his hip bone. “I was! I was going about my day as a decent girl, daydreaming about moving to London, when this bad, bad boy, he just whisked me off my feet and dragged me home.” She kissed his other hip. “I’m just another victim of the troublesome Potter thug.”

With a laugh, he pushed her to her back. “Oh, is that so, Rachel?” He had, in fact, first met her walking down the street. He’d stopped to help her pick up the contents of her purse, which she’d strewn about having tripped while digging through it. As the last object was delicately taken from his hand- a coin purse of some kind- she finally locked eyes with him, her expression sliding from worry to an uncomfortable thankfulness. Harry had asked if she’d been okay, and after a few more sentences, she admitted she had been rifling through her purse purely to avoid eye contact with him. When asked if he actually attended a school for criminals, Harry hesitated before partially owning up to his false reputation with a non-committal ‘kinda.’ But, he followed, just because he wasn’t above a bit of sneaking about or knicking things, that didn’t mean he’d go groping women on the street. Her response brought both of them to a deep, burning blush: ‘what about off the street then?’ Less than an hour later he went from being one of the last of his dormmates to kiss a girl to probably the first to give one an orgasm. Shortly after that, he definitely became the first to lose his virginity.

“Well then, Miss Williams, what can this little street rat do to keep you from turning him in?” In the last three days, Harry had rapidly developed a confidence in his abilities. In between the panick attacks of reliving Cedric’s last moments, he allowed himself to fall deeper and deeper into his infatuation with making this pretty girl moan his name. Rachel was a year or two older than him (he kept meaning to iron out details like birthdays and middle names but kept getting distracted) and had spent much of the first day coaching him in things she liked. The second day, after they walked to get ice cream together to sate her desire for some sort of date, the teenage girl had been convinced he’d lied to her about his inexperience. Harry’s ego soared through the roof as the girl confessed in an orgasm-drunk stupor that she had never cum harder than his second attempt at oral. They had spent every daylight hour together that day, and he went down on her once more at dusk, in the park.

Today, the Dursleys were away, off to some company luncheon and then out to dinner with “the big wigs” that Vernon wouldn’t shut the hell up about. And so Harry took the opportunity to bring Rachel to a bed, specifically his. They’d made good use of it so far, and when Rachel bit her lip and glanced down her own body, Harry realized they were far from done. He knelt between her legs, easing them farther apart before leaning down to kiss the girl’s trim stomach, tracing light kisses down past her navel to her neatly groomed pubis. Looking up at her, he allowed his hot breath to roll over her wet lips, closing his lips to a tight circle to blow a more concentrated stream of cooler air at her sensitive nub at the top of her slit. Abruptly he moved his head to her left knee, and as he kissed there, he heard her groan in light frustration. He nipped and licked his way down her thigh, kissing the soft skin, taking as long as he could while still being in motion. Soon he was licking at the crease of her thigh, planting wet kisses centimeters away from her labia, closing in each time, the corner of his lips pressed to her swollen vulva, her breath hitching in anticipation…

His next kiss was planted firmly in the middle of her right thigh. Rachel growled in frustration, finally reaching down and grabbing Harry’s messy hair with both hands, pressing his face where she wanted it to be. To her chagrin, however, the boy was anything but done with his teasing. Chuckling, he placed soft kisses against her wet lips, his hands slowly running up her thighs, propping them up on his shoulders. The girl’s hands twisted, pulling a dull ache from his scalp, but this did nothing to dissuade him. Using his tongue to trace slowly along the outside of her swollen labia, he manipulated the flesh without actually tasting her directly. Long, slow licks, gradually rising from the flat of his tongue until he was ghosting the tip of the pink muscle just millimeters from her needy clitoris. Finally, he placed his puckered lips against her hood, pressing a loud kiss against her most sensitive spot.

And then proceeded to stare at her from there, until she groaned. “Haaarrrryyy, pleeease.” Rachel’s eyes were closed, her back almost undulating, trying to hump her hips up into his face, seeking friction. Smiling, Harry finally gave in. He parted his lips against hers, pressing his tongue out to lap at her, the tip of the muscle flicking over her clit before he retracted it, sucking firmly on the tiny nub. Hearing her gasp urged him to continue, lapping at her folds with long licks, he pushed his tongue into her opening, wiggling the dexterous muscle against her slick tunnel. He began slowly shaking his head, grinding the tip of his nose against her clit, trying to pleasure as much of her at once as possible. Her body began undulating in truth, grinding herself into his mouth and nose as she gasped out loud, aggressively seeking her own pleasure. Harry slid his hands under her ass, propping her up, holding her above the bed on his elbows, allowing him to push his tongue deeper into her, and both parties ground her sensitive button into his slightly pliable cartilage. Pulling his tongue from inside her, he licked upward, before sucking at her clit almost roughly, before he began lapping and sucking at her flesh rapidly, forcefully. Suddenly Rachel was yanking his hair, trying to pull him up her body.

“Oh, God, fuck me, Harry, I need it inside.”

With a long, forceful drag of her pussy, he pulled away, his hand replacing his lips on her clit. He looked up at her, hesitant, and she matched his gaze, panting in lust. “I don’t have any more rubbers.”

“I don’t care. I need it, I need you.”

Rachel had told him early on that she was on the pill, but she had insisted on condoms anyway, as you ‘couldn’t be too careful.’ Harry reasoned that she must be spectacularly horny in order to walk back on something she’d been rather obstinate about. “You’re sure?” She nodded coyly. Harry watched her for another few seconds before dipping his face down, taking a long suck and quick kiss on her swollen lips once more before quickly kissing up her body. Pressing his impressive length to her dripping opening, he looked her in the eyes. Just as he prepared to voice his question, asking once more if she was sure, she brought her heels to his back, pushing him forward, while humping her hips into his. His question died in his throat as a moan shoved past it and out of his lips as the first third of his cock buried within the girl’s wet heat.

“God, you feel so much better this way. I’ve wanted to feel your skin against mine since the first time.” That was news to the dark haired boy. Rather than linger on her declaration, he began pushing more of himself into her, stretching her for the third time today, but feeling her slick arousal bare for the first time. His breath was shallow and warm against her neck as he adjusted to the increased sensations, slowly pushing in as deep as he could reach, pulling a grunt of satisfied discomfort from the blonde girl. Harry hesitated, looking down into her eyes, waiting for her confirmation for him to move. Rachel’s nod led him to slowly start pumping his hips, working with long, deep strokes, pulling more than half of his manhood free, leaving her filled as much as either of her previous lovers that way, before powerfully pushing back in. It wasn’t hard for the girl to imagine the boy was remolding her, and briefly she questioned how this young boy was beyond competition with years of growth ahead of him. Her nails found his back, dragging them across the toned muscle so out of place on one his age, nearly drawing blood. His heated grunt made her exhale amusedly, before her breath was stolen by a rough thrust.

“Fuck Harry, I love this, I love your giant cock.” Rachel opened her eyes she hadn’t even knowingly closed, staring into his gorgeous green pair. “Give it to me.” Her hands slid down the small of his back, her nails digging into the taut muscle of his ass, feeling him flex as he fucked her. “I _need_ it, Harry, I need to feel you fill me.” That pulled a moan from the boy, and she felt him twitch inside her. She responded with a gasping chuckle as she worked her walls around him, gripping him as he tried to maintain control.

“But. You-“

“Fuck what I said earlier, I need it, I need you.” The girl leaned up, gripping the boy’s shoulder with her teeth as that sentence drove him to bottom out harshly in her. As he tried to gather himself, she felt his breath on her shoulder, blasting out of his nostrils like an angry animal, a bull nearly beyond control. Pulling back, she kissed his neck, his jaw, his lips. Pressing her forehead to his, she waited for his eyes to open again. “I want your cum inside me.”

Harry broke. The teenager could not control the seemingly instinctual urge she’d pulled from him as his hips started to piston into the girl. Slamming deep, they both groaned as his unsustainable pace brought them both a strained pleasure. Her cervix bearing the brunt of her discomfort, his body already overworked and sore but finding just enough in reserve to keep his powerful muscles firing. Rachel’s eyes rolled back as she dropped her head back, moaning to her deity of the pleasure as his obscene tool ground into her clit’s sensitive internal counterpart, only for his prominent ridge to clip it again on the way out. The deep thrusts were unsustainable to be sure, but Harry held out beyond his own limited understanding, and blew Rachel’s expectations away yet again. Having expected him to wear out and blow within a few moments of beginning his rapid pace, she’d been holding back her orgasm in order to share it with his. Minutes later, he was still fucking her harder and faster than her previous lovers had ever been capable, longer than they’d been capable of sustaining their best, and so she lost control of herself.

As her orgasm crested, she fell back to the bed, moaning barely coherently, “I love you, fuck, I love you.” With that, and her clenching insides, Harry felt the familiar tingle run up his spine. Thrust. An obscenity. Thrust. Her name. And then he drove himself deep, and shuddered as he emptied himself into her, filling her with rope after rope, before collapsing, half on top of her, half beside her.

-=-=-

After they’d enjoyed a few minutes of afterglow, Harry started to ask a question, but Rachel quickly silenced him with a kiss. She muttered that they shouldn’t talk, that she knew she shouldn’t have said what she did and hushed down his attempts to assure her otherwise. Pointing to her knowledge that boys didn’t like that word, she hoped he’d not be scared away by her accidental admission. Harry managed to get as far as the word “I” before she clapped a hand over his mouth, a sudden, strange desperation in her eyes.

“Don’t say it, not now when it’s just because I said it. If you say it to me, to anyone… make sure you mean it.”

They’d returned to cuddling, affection and warmth oddly at peace alongside shame and guilt. But teenagers are never allowed to have more than a few passionate hours to themselves, and with the Dursley’s due back soon, Rachel soon left.

So Harry returned to the diary. As he pulled one of Rachel’s socks from the book, the random object he’d propped it open with, he dropped it to the floor with a shrug. Sitting on his bed, which still reeked of sex, Harry read through what turned out to be mostly gibberish. The first few dozen pages were completely unintelligible, but with a deep frown, the boy sat down, tracing his eyes over every ‘word’ within, searching for some meaning. Eventually, he began to notice patterns, similar “words” repeating occasionally. After very little effort to decipher what he suspected to be some kind of code, the boy gave it up as a lost cause but resolved to show it to Hermione. Perhaps his genius friend could root out the pattern. In frustration, Harry flipped through the rest of the journal, searching for something he could understand. The abrupt stoppage of text filled the orphan with a pang of muted pain, his subconscious offering up the reason while his consciousness actively ignored it.

Then, near the middle, after a handful of empty pages, again in smeared ink like on the cover, the words “I’m sorry” finger-painted on the left page, with a Latin phrase on the opposing side. The young wizard read the phase aloud, nearly fumbling over the language he knew exclusively through spellcasting.

“Ego rogo conloquium cum Rex de Affectio.”

 “Finally.”

Harry jumped to his feet, spinning around to look at the person who spoke from directly behind him. ‘Person’ appeared to be a generous term. The humanoid now before him was pulling himself from inside the bed, somehow. It was almost as if he had broken the surface of a pool, and then placed his hands on the water to pull himself out. Disconcerting to behold, and Harry found himself very concerned as to how this… man had gotten into his room, much less crawled form INSIDE his mattress.

The intruder’s long arms stretched to their fullest, allowing him to pull his legs up from the portal, for lack of a more appropriate term, and he briefly held them at a right angle to his torso, out toward Harry, holding a gymnast’s pose for a few seconds. Dropping himself to the now solid bed, the otherworldly being allowed his left foot to find the floor, his right propped onto his knee, smiling happily. Harry stared, on edge despite the creature’s jovial expression, as the man smoothed his dark hair back between the horns sprouting from his forehead, the width of three of Harry’s fingers, curving closely to the creature’s head, tapering to a point somewhere behind his ears. One hand adjusted and smoothed out the long, loose tunic hanging from one shoulder to clothe the demon before it fell to his leg, resting, while his other hand reached out to Harry, clearly offering a handshake, but not leaning forward to do so, in essence prompting the young wizard to approach.

Harry, swallowing his fear, was bold enough to do so, after a handful of heartbeats. Reaching out with his right hand, he forced himself to maintain eye contact, more than slightly perturbed by the mirth in the demon’s impossibly blue irises. Harry’s larger than average hand was all but swallowed up by the huge palms of the demon, and the wizard found himself quite taken aback at the warmth radiating from the creature’s skin.

“Pleased to finally meet you, young Harry. I’ve been waiting for this for quite some time.” The demon retracted his hand, folding it together with his other and resting them in his lap, seemingly careful to maintain a since of civility; Harry could not help but find himself regarding the man as friendly. “I am known as Lilu.” Harry’s only response was a blink, to which Lilu only smiled. “My name was never quite as known as my sister’s, I know. Now, before I begin, do you have any immediate questions?”

“More than I can mention.”

“Fair enough, Harry. Let me go through the largest concerns, and you can ask whatever you’d like me to clarify. Agreed?” The wizard nodded after a moment, and Lilu’s face took a bittersweet tone as he began. “Your mother, Lily Potter, was a scholar. She sought to understand the magic of love, and in her explorations, found me. Now, you have to understand what very few wizards of the age seem to- there is another world than yours.” His voice was rich, his tone confident, but patient. “That world is where I hail, and it is a mirror of this one, in many ways. It is where magic originates. There is a physical separation between the two, which some refer to as the veil. Wizards and witches, and other magical beings, sift magic through the veil, pulling through what they need and using it. The realm, or ‘Kingdom’ as some of your predecessors thought of it, that I inhabit is that of Love. Ergo, magic relating to love originates from the equivalence of my ‘territory,’ follow?”

Slowly, Harry nodded, for the most part understanding.

Lilu grinned with approval. “Very good. Now, the very first scholars to learn of my existence mistook me as a king. While I do wield considerable power amongst my people, I am but one of a handful that claim such; the closest equivalent I could claim is that of an ‘elder,’ by my estimation. Still, their superstitious beliefs led to a large misunderstanding. As such, when your mother discovered me and my siblings ‘ruling’ the realm of love magic, she was very disappointed, but after I slowly gained her trust, she saw that I was not the ‘demon’ that I was written to be. Her discovery that familial, friendly, and erotic or lustful love all originate in the same magic was, in her opinion, going to change the nature of the Magical world. Specifically, she pointed to a greater acceptance of love-based magicks and, more to the point, certain magical creatures.

“Sadly, this is where the lesson turns grim.” Lilu frowned, his voice dropping to a sentimental tone. “She had, in one of our conversations, admitted that she was under threat of death, and more importantly, so was her family. I saw an opportunity to help her gain some peace of mind, while helping to move forward my own goals as well.” Harry, who had been engrossed in the story so far, begin to feel his bile rise, anger coming forth at the idea of this demon abusing his mother’s trust; Lilu immediately placated him. “I told her immediately that I was not being purely altruistic, that the solution I offered was benefitting me and mine as much as herself. I offered to give protection to any member of her family she wished, but that I’d need to place some of my magic within them. She turned me down, and I understood her reasons.

“Then, a few weeks later, she summoned me. In a panic, your mother asked what kind of protection I could offer. I explained that I could only protect those I had imparted with my magic, a double edged sword, and also that my power was tied to intent, that I could manifest an amount of intent into an equal amount of will.” Harry’s eyes widened, suddenly knowing where this revelation was taking him, and Lilu’s slid closed, either in shame or pain. “She consented to the protections, and told me to manifest her intent.”

‘ _Then she put herself between me and Voldemort_.’ Harry felt like he was going to retch, and Lilu gave him a moment to grieve.

“Her intent was so strong that her will protects you to this day.” His voice was sad now, both comforting and irritating Harry. “She was an impressive being.” The demon gave Harry a few moments to gather his thoughts. “You may be wondering just what this means for you.” The young wizard finally dragged his eyes back to Lilu. “I’ll put it bluntly. You’re an Incubus, Harry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No other OCs will be in this story, just Rachel and Lilu. Updates will be sporadic. I plan to explore the nature of (my version of) Succubae and Incubi as a sort of demi-demon/magical creature. Harry will not grow horns or a tail. Every chapter will include smut. I will elaborate on the nature of the magical realm and the veil. I hope to capture how Harry feels about his situation, as well as some of his friends’ takes on the issue. Those are the goals, anyway. Next chapter will include a conversation with Lilu, a conversation with Hermione, and smut- notably not with Hermione.


	2. Young, Dumb, Selfish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry remembers a conversation with Lilu, a confrontation with Rachel, and confiding in Hermione, before blowing off some steam with his Yule Ball date.

Harry James Potter sat in his favorite armchair in the Gryffindor common room, face in the direction of the fire, his eyes unfocused. Three conversations rang though his skull, banging off of each other, each casting doubt and blame on one another, the cacophony of the three voices educating him, consoling him, and berating him slowly being drowned out by the white noise hiss of his consciousness damn near disconnecting.

Blinking himself back into focus, he ran through the conversations again, in chronological order.

-=-=-

“An Incubus?” Harry had been incredulous, staring at Lilu.

Nodding, the horned man explained. “You are a manifestation of love magic. An anchor, a bridge between my world and this one. Which is why your mother’s intent was able to manifest so potently. She made a gesture out of pure, familial love to protect an entity that is a literal conduit to the source of love-based magic. The resonance was pure, and therefore, her will keeps you safe from Voldemort to this day, and likely forever.

“However, there are some other issues with your gift that you should know.” Holding up a single hand, Lilu gestured to the chair at Harry’s desk, and it pulled out and shuffled itself across the carpet, coming to a stop at the wizard’s side, in front of the man in the tunic on his bed. “Please, I think you’ll prefer to sit. This may take some time.

“Firstly, as I mentioned, the realm of love is largely divided three ways; familial love, friendship love, and erotic love. There is some spillover, depending on how relationships are defined; for instance, friendship and erotic love used to be very blurry in ancient times, particularly in warrior-cultures. I, myself, oversee the realm of erotic love. That is, the love of a sexual partner. Lust is a large part of the intent that my realm feeds on, though that can spill over into the other realms of passion. But I digress.

“Secondly, understanding that my world exists as a reflection of your world’s intent, I’m sure it shouldn’t shock you that denizens on my side have some interest in… exerting agency on your side of the veil.”

Harry frowned, head tilting imperceptibly. “You mean you try to control us?”

“A bit harsher than any of us would say, outside a handful of the mind-magic realms, anyway. We look at it more as foreign relations, to use non-wizard terminology. Very occasionally some of us can come to this world, but we are usually mistaken for demons or angels and the trips are oftentimes counter-productive. This is my first actual manifestation in this realm this millennium, and I could only exist here because you summoned me.”

“Didn’t my mother summon you?”

“Lily attempted to summon me, but could only open a communication portal twice, and a crude veil-tear in order to allow my magic through to gift it to you. And those were incredibly taxing on her. You can summon me so long as,” Lilu raised his hands, using airquotes, “’love is in the air,’ so to speak.” His half-grin nearly drove Harry to roll his eyes. “Any of the Ubus could summon me with ease, if they were to find the correct spell, or even just will it hard enough.” The overseer of lust sighed dramatically. “It’s heartbreaking, you know, the grandkids never call.”

The wizard cocked an eyebrow, asking the one word question, “Grandkids?”

Lilu perked up, smoothing his tunic over his knees. “Yes, I was explaining our interest in influencing your world. You see, many of the races you refer to as ‘Magical Creatures’ are in fact descended from denizens of our world. The first Ubus were my creations. I made them when I used to frequently visit this side of the veil.

“The succubae have largely remained the same, cultivating love and lust, consuming it and transferring it to our realm as magic. However, every succubus is almost completely infertile. The only time a succubus ovulates is when she mates with a compatible incubus, which has happened a number of times I can count on one hand. This has less to do with succubus nature than it does with incubus nature, however.

“Incubi, such as yourself, are responsible for spreading the Ubus gene. Every child an Incubus fathers will be born as an Ubus, half male incubi, half female succubae. These children are physical manifestations of love magic, and therefore anchor our worlds together, vastly increasing the flow of love magic, but because the Ubus were created on your side of the veil, they are directed by your world’s natural order. When I created the first Ubus, the Incubi were simple enough to not cause large problems in human society. Their magic would find suitable mates, and through a combination of magic and pheromones, would ‘induce’ infatuation and lust into them. Given time to mature, this grew into love, and the couple would have many Ubus children. An incubus would generally have two or three loving, devoted partners.”

Harry visibly balked at the idea of magic induced infatuation, but Lilu carried on without seeming to notice his unease, “However, with time, incubus nature adapted, and evolved. As individual incubus families were… culled… by zealots, the rare incubus who did not settle down with partners was more successful. These roaming incubi were, prior to the shift, less effective in mating because the infatuation and lust process took time. Again, evolution rapidly solved the problem.” The young wizard felt an unease settle about his mind. He couldn’t place what it was, but something about this conversation was giving him a bad feeling. “While the subtle magic sought very compatible women, this new style of incubus developed a wider-searching magic. The subtle pheromone balance that induced infatuation over the span of days and lust over weeks was honed down to the span of hours or even minutes, and in fact some especially susceptible women can find themselves trusting an incubus after merely being within a few feet of him. This was especially helpful as most wandering incubi were seen as vagrants at best and dangerous criminals rather often.”

Some puzzle pieces started to fall into place for Harry. “No. She… no.”

“However, the single most impressive bit of magical adaptation was the sweat of an incubus developing a powerful pheromone that triggers ovulation, nearly guaranteeing pregnancy within a week of first skin-to-skin contact.”

“FUCK!”

-=-=-

Harry leaned forward, shaking his head free of the aborted conversation with Lilu, before placing his face in his hands, allowing the next conversation to play through his mind.

He’d sprinted out of the room, leaving countless questions unanswered in his panic to warn Rachel. He never stopped to question what the warning would help her with, and he didn’t think about how he was going to explain. His only thought was on sprinting to her home. When he’d finally gotten the blonde’s mother to permit him a few moments to speak with his girlfriend, looking into her face, he realized that as bad as it was he didn’t have those two questions answered, there were larger problems as well.

Namely, the way Rachel’s eyes lit up in happiness as they fell on him, only to fade into confusion within seconds. Still he leaned in to kiss her, as they’d greeted each other that morning, only for her to pull away. He raised an eyebrow and she gestured toward her door, the young incubus taking that to mean she didn’t want to throw him in her mother’s face, as it were. Still, she seemed agitated.

“What’s wrong?”

“I… Nothing, what do you want, Harry?”

Lowering his voice, he tried to let on to his sense of urgency without coming off panicked. “It’s about this afternoon, about… what we did.” His vision flitted to Rachel’s door, wondering if her mother was pressed to the door, eavesdropping.

She rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Yes, it was just a few hours ago, I remember.” A sudden look of comprehension dawned on her. “Ooh, alright, I see.” Harry raised his eyebrows, confused as to her nonchalance that bordered on condescension. “Look, I know what I said was… hasty, but you didn’t have to come knock down my door to tell me you weren’t ready for that kinda thing.” Rachel released an exaggerated huff of a sigh, twisting the knife, “I mean this whole display is enough to make me think I made a big mistake.”

Harry almost flinched back, the heated words from a girl he’d been so intimate with almost physically stunning him. He quickly gathered himself, confused, but dead-set on his original goal, to warn her. “That’s not it. I needed to… to warn you, I guess.” She cocked a single eyebrow, curious, but unconvinced of his intentions. “You… oh Merl- I think I got you preg-” her hands shot out, suddenly covering his mouth as she hissed for him to be quiet, her eyes widened in a panic, before suddenly narrowing, not out of irritation, but true anger.

Rachel’s voice was a whisper, but it tattooed Harry’s skull. “You childish little…” She shoved him, both hands into both of his shoulders, pushing him back away from her house. “You’re this petty? You show up cuz you’re scared of a word and try to get me riled up?” She shoved him again, her voice still an acid whisper. “Hoping I’ll panic and run? Hoping my parents will take me to a clinic and lock me in my room so you don’t have to see me anymore?” She shoved him again, this time the hardest of the bunch, and he was forced to take multiple steps back.

“No, Rachel, why would I want that?”

“I don’t know!” It was her first outburst with any volume, but she quickly brought her voice down to a whisper again, lacking none of the edge. “I don’t know why you’re so damn scared of a word that you’d show up here and just try to… to fuck with my head like that.” She sighed, running her hands over her face in a visible effort to calm down. Harry was afraid to speak, she seemed… brittle, at the moment.

Rachel’s quiet chuckle nearly made the wizard jump, and without raising her eyes to his, she explained in a voice full of false mirth, “What’s really strange, what’s really fucking with my head- not that the last few days haven’t been just you, and I guess my fucked up libido, fucking with my head day and night- is that just not even half an hour ago, I was thinking about how much I’d love a kid, especially with your eyes.”

Harry simply stared, this whole situation had gone nightmarish from the start and he had no earthly idea how to handle it. She started again, a tense, forced calm in her normally mischievous, sweet tone. “Alright. For starters, and I didn’t think you were such an imbecile I’d have to explain this to you, but there’s no way I could be pregnant. I’m on the pill, and it’s been less than a day since you… did what you did. More importantly, I’m an imbecile. The moment I saw you, I was infatuated, with those eyes and your reputation… and then when you turned out to not be a total dick, I guess… I guess the whiplash of it tricked me.”

“What do you mean?” His voice was hollow, he somehow knew exactly what she meant, down in his grey matter somewhere, but he needed to hear it, needed her to label it for his sluggish surface thoughts.

“Christ… I don’t love you, Harry.” Deep, profound confusion rooted Harry to the spot. “You were a good shag, and fun to be around, but we’d known each other for days.” Rachel’s face turned sad, and if Harry had any energy left to question things, he’d have questioned her wild emotional swings in the last few minutes. “I got caught up in the moment. Just… it was a good weekend, alright? Don’t be such a kid about it.” She began to make her way back up the drive, toward her door.

“Can we see each other again?” Harry winced as the desperate words flew past his lips before he’d known what he was saying, and then paled when he dug a deeper hole with his follow on. “When we’re both… less emotional?”

Rachel laughed. A hollow, almost mocking laugh. As she turned to face him, her face was twisted up in a kind of painful shame. “I doubt my boyfriend will like that much. He’ll be back from holiday in a day or two.” Her gaze slowly drifted off of him, past him, sliding to her left before she shook it off. “Goodbye, Harry.”

-=-=-

Harry threw himself back into the chair, ripping himself out of the painful, confusing memory. He’d spent the next few weeks sulking about town, careful to avoid humanity. He’d attempted to re-summon Lilu, to no great effect. He’d replayed the entire scenario in his head a thousand times and couldn’t make sense of it. The dementor attack on himself and his cousin was nearly a godsend, those few hours of insane panic managing to pull his mind away from the entire incident, almost forgetting that he was almost assuredly well on his way to being a father. His eyes open and unfocused, Harry allowed himself to slip into the last major conversation that had shaped his summer.

“Harry, this is insane. If it could be corroborated at all, this could change the entire academic understanding of magic.” Hermione had quickly deciphered his mother’s journal, having recognized the ‘well-known’ cipher immediately. She assured Harry that most wizards would never have seen it, and would have just tried to spell away what they’d assume to be a cryptographic enchantment. “Thank you so much for showing me. But I have to ask, what’s with this last page?” Harry walked to the door, poking his head out to check for anyone nearby, before closing it tightly. Privacy in this house was hard to come by and harder to maintain.

“It summons an entity who calls himself Lilu.”

“The Mesopotamian demon?”

“Not important, we don’t have much time before Ron comes to find us. Hermione, I’m an incubus.” She stared at him for a few seconds, and he could see immediate disbelief blown away by her trust in him, and then as cogs started to turn, she frowned.

“That’s why you wouldn’t let me hug you.” Harry nearly collapsed in relief that she didn’t brush him off as being full of it. “How? James didn’t fit any of the notes your mother had on the incubi.”

“Lilu passed his magic to me directly, it was how my mother saved me.” Hermione’s head tilted, he could see her thinking again, a slight frown on her face. “I didn’t know about it until this summer, when I met him.”

“YOU MET HIM?” Harry explained all that he could about his conversation with his patron, and the bushy-haired genius absorbed it all with varying expressions. When he got to the point that he ran out of the conversation, however, he came up at a loss.

“You ran out when he mentioned ovulation?” Harry nodded. The girl’s face paled, as her eyes expanded. “Harry… No…”

“Her name is Rachel. She should be about a month along now.”

“Merlin… how?”

“W’d’ya mean, how? How do you think?” Hermione rolled her eyes, waiting for him to explain. With a huff, he gave in to her silent demand. “We bumped together in the street, she started flirting with me, I flirted back, a few days later she told me not to worry about the condom, that she was on the pill. A few hours later I found out that I undo the pill. I went to go tell her, and she blew up on me.”

“She was mad at you?” Another nod from the incubus. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“You’re telling me. Goes from telling me she loves me to telling me her boyfriend is on his way home in the span of a decent quidditch match.”

“Did you ask Lilu?”

“No, I haven’t been able to summon him again.” Again, his words pulled a curious frown from his brunette friend. Harry threw himself into the nearest chair, resting his elbows on his knees and putting his face in his hands. “What am I going to do, Hermione?”

“Well. There’s some upsides.” He looked up to her, wondering just where she could find the silver lining here. She wasn’t looking at him, however, but flipping through her deciphered copy of his mother’s journal. “For starters, you’re going to get significantly stronger. Specifically, every… child you father will give you a greater draw through the veil, and you definitely could use some oompf if it’s just us against the entirety of the death eaters. And,” She snapped the book shut, “I’m not overburdened by the urge to jump you, so at least you know there’s some immunity to it. We may need to look into exactly how and why though. Until then, I think your initial idea of avoiding physical contact is… prudent.”

“Oh good, only half of the girls in my life will be supernaturally pushed into bearing my children.”

“You’ll never flounder for a date to another ball?” Harry affixed his friend with a withering glare, her misguided attempt at levity falling flat. She winced, adding “I know. Alright, two major things then. Most importantly, you have to have more questions answered. What was different about the first time you summoned Lilu?” Harry frowned, trying to recall, but Hermione cut him off as they both heard footsteps coming down the hall. “Think on it. In the meantime, how’s your relationship with Fleur?”

This was when their mutual redheaded friend burst through the door. “The Beauxbatons champion?” Ron enquired nosily. “What’d Harry wanna talk to her for? She’s more likely to know about dealing with jealous girlfriends than war-time grief.” The trio launched into another conversation entirely, both Harry and Hermione pointedly avoiding letting Ron on that the Boy-Who-Lived had yet another double edged gift in his life.

-=-=-

After several re-writes, Harry had managed to draft a letter to his Beauxbatons counterpart that managed to ask advice in dealing with ‘admirers’ without letting on his nature, trying to play up the fame angle. Her response was longer and friendlier than he’d expected, and noted that she assumed he’d have much he’d like to talk about, what with the events a few months beforehand, and suggested that she could visit him on a weekend, if he needed advice or to talk about Cedric.

Three conversations, all taxing, all confusing, had been pounding in his head all day, and one potential conversation he didn’t know if he truly wanted to have taunted him. Fleur could potentially help him deal with his inability to control who was attracted to him, at least on how to avoid trouble with it. But she wanted to talk about Cedric, and Voldemort, and he’d likely have to explain his newly discovered nature. It would not be a fun conversation, to say the least. Harry sighed, emotionally and mentally drained. This was the moment that a curtain of dark hair came down to frame his vision, the playfully smirking face of his yule ball date lingering upside down over his own.

“Why so glum, Harry?”

“Why so cheerful, Parvati?”

Her eyes, a deep cognac, crinkled slightly at the corners, and her lips, which were uncharacteristically unadorned in their natural pink, twisted into a still good-natured but slightly more mocking smile. “I never took you for a pessimist.” She straightened, walking around to sit on the arm of his chair, a respectable distance between them. Parvati was clearly in her sleeping clothes, unlike Harry, who was still in his disheveled uniform, and he had to control his urge to reach out to feel her fleece pajama pants- hot pink, much like the gown she’d worn to the ball, but with thumbnail sized insignias spattered about. Her faded blue shirt was loose, hanging to nearly the point that it doubled as a dress itself, and was clearly very worn-in. “I’m happy that someone else appears to be having trouble sleeping, generally I get lonely in my insomnia bouts.”

“Mmm. Sleeplessness is new to me, so I guess I wouldn’t know.” Harry was struck for a second time by how pretty Parvati was. At the ball, she’d been dolled up, perfect makeup, gold in her hair and on her wrists, in a dress that likely cost more than two weeks’ pay. But now she was in the opposite and was just as striking, unflattering clothes that hid her lithe figure still came off cute, and her long, dark hair fell past her shoulders, not pulled into her usual plait. Her cheekbones were naturally defined, her eyes bright even without her and Lavender’s mundane magic outlining and highlighting them, and her slightly imperfect complexion gave her a sense of vulnerability. At the ball, she’d been pushing for perfection; here and now, she was human. “I’m surprised you bothered speaking to me, after…”

“After…?” They both knew what he was getting to, but she clearly wanted to hear him say it.

“After the abysmal date I took you on.” He sighed. “You didn’t deserve that, I was just… it was a strange time.” The Boy-Who-Lived let his gaze slide off of her face, to the left a touch. “Not that there isn’t a strange time, for me.”

She laughed, a light, tinkling laugh, not like the loud, affected, occasionally mean laughs she shared with her blonde conspirator. “Well I guess talking to snakes and facing down dragons for others’ entertainment aren’t quite normal boarding school experiences, are they?” Parvati’s smile softened again, her relentlessly upbeat nature threatening to pull Harry out of the depressive funk he’d just started to make comfortable. “Well I forgive you, if it makes you feel better about it. Though Lavender would have me badger you to make it up for me with gifts and such.” She exhaled, drawing out a long, contemplative sigh. “Honestly, I should apologize to you, too. I played too aloof, I think- Padma’s fault.” She drew her legs up, crossing them, perching her small body on the wide arm of Harry’s chair, resting her elbows on her knees and propping her cheeks on her fists. Her puffed up cheeks gave her an adorable look that pulled the corner of the incubus’ mouth up against his will. “Said not to scare you off with ‘fangirling’ and to ‘play it cool,’ and that definitely made me feel like you were… put off by that. Honestly it’s kind of funny, considering how giddy my precious sister was when I said you’d invited us. She was quite peeved she was stuck with Ron.”

Harry raised a single eyebrow, slightly confused. “So why did she go with him then?”

Parvati rolled her eyes, smirking again. “Better than going alone.” She locked her brandy eyes on his emerald ones, “Besides, if she hadn’t been there to distract him, he would’ve dragged you off to be miserable in a corn- oh wait.” This time it was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes with a smirk, returning them to her face to see her stick her small tongue out at him, her eyes crinkling in mirth again. “So.” The Indian-descended girl unfolded her legs, bumping his knee with her toe, urging him to scoot. Harry was hesitant, but couldn’t think of a way to close the gap between ‘I’d like to let you into my personal space’ and ‘I don’t want to make you a teenage mother,’ and so, he scooted. “Why have you been in a funk all day?” Parvati twisted, dropping her body into the chair, her left leg hanging off correctly, but her right was still tucked under herself, her knee resting on Harry’s thigh so that she could face him more easily. Two voices were screeching in Harry’s mind: one that was convinced she was trying to seduce him and that he should pull her farther onto his lap, the other convinced that she was trying to seduce him and that he should run, far and fast, for both their sakes.

Harry pulled his gaze away from the bright, light brown irises he kept admiring, staring off into the embers of the fire again. Cocking his head, he weighed his words. “Girl troubles, I suppose.”

“Oohh, goody, the Boy-Who-Lived is a broody romantic.” He playfully glared at her, an ounce of actual irritation in him, but giving the girl the benefit of the doubt. She laughed, again, a light, tinkling noise, not due to humor, but almost to disarm him, to take as much of the seriousness out of the comment as she could. “No, it’s good to see, everyone sees you as this… this icon, to see you struggle with something as mundane as a breakup just a few months after defeating a dragon?”

“That’s… that’s how I’m seen?”

“Oh yeah. I guess you’re used to Ron and Hermione’s perspective. Hermione tries to tell people you’re not as other-worldly heroic as people make out, but, intentionally or not, she does the opposite. ‘Oh, Harry isn’t Superman, he just fought a troll with a toddler’s repertoire of spells and won. Oh, Harry’s not fearless, he was utterly terrified of the giant murder snake he killed.’ Honestly, anyone else in this school would feint at the idea of that, and for you two, you both act like it’s a Tuesday.” Harry laughed out loud at the accuracy of the girl’s Hermione impression, absorbing this new perspective. “And then, on the other side, you’ve got Ron, who I’m sure keeps you grounded, but he tries to act so cool about being your buddy when you’re separated. It’s funny, in a way, because in bragging himself up, he makes you look Herculean.” She laid a hand on his chest, overjoyed to share this next bit. “Oh and the Heir of Slytherin fiasco, Merlin, Harry, you were so… aloof, so above everyone, it almost looked like you _reveled_ in the hatred.” Parvati’s eyes narrowed, her smile becoming conspiratorial. “That’s when Padma got a crush on you, actually. That bad boy shit gets her _OFF_.”

Harry guffawed, slightly disbelieving that the ‘nerdy’ sister was attracted to the anti-hero act, but Parvati insisted it was true. “I had no idea I was acting like that. I guess the tense smile I wore came off as, what, smug? Condescending?” The pretty girl nodded, and he shook his head lightly. “It was killer for me. I hate feeling like I’m… the bad guy, I guess.” His smile faded as he pictured the anger on Rachel’s face again.

Parvati’s head fell back with an exaggerated groan, bumping his arm on the top of the backrest. “I try so hard to pull a smile out of you, and it’s gone in less than a second.” Quickly twisting herself, Harry was caught off guard as the petite Gryffindor was suddenly straddling his thighs, her legs so warm against his even through their respective pants. “You really make a girl work for it, don’t you?” Both of her hands came to his chest as she curled up, sitting on his legs, her forearms flush to his torso. Her face was a hand’s breadth from his, and he flicked his eyes between hers, hoping she couldn’t read the longing or weariness in his face; the knowing glint in her own told him his hopes were unanswered. “Maybe you’d like to hear what Lavender’s advice for the ball was?” Her voice was low, barely a whisper, and he could feel the heat of her breath as it carried the words from her lungs.

“Parvati…”

“She knew you wouldn’t want to dance, you see. Granger has told us you hate the limelight, so she knew you’d be off the floor before the first song stopped.” Harry noticed the chatty Gryffindor’s eyes kept dancing down to his lips, and realized he was doing the same to her. “I wouldn’t have minded much, I just wanted to talk to you, away from our…” Parvati bit her lip, her eyes rolling as she searched for the words, “…entourages. But Lavender, the wannabe slut she is, had a different idea.” The incubus swallowed down a groan as the dusky girl rolled her hips, pushing her knees forward and extending her arms until they slid over his shoulders, their faces no farther apart, but their hips now nearly touching. “She suggested I drag you out as soon as a good beat came on, and show you how I move my hips.” Her low voice dripped with desire, and Harry found his hands on her waist of their own accord. “Would you have liked that, Harry? Do you think I could’ve made you forget the crowd?” Her smirk was back, and somehow it was in itself innuendo, as if just her smile could subtly proposition him. She punctuated her sentence with another roll of her hips, this time grinding her clothed sex across his lap, and the wizard involuntarily took a deep inhale, breathing in her lovely scent. “No?” Parvati’s eyes were full of mirth, knowing that she’d found a weakness of his, that Lavender had indeed been steering her truthfully. “When I left with that silly boy, that was to get your attention, you know- Padma’s idea, again. Part of me thinks she was trying to sabotage me, sometimes.”

She suddenly leaned back, teasing with the buttons of Harry’s shirt, the apex of her thighs flush against his fly. “Either way, Lavender admonished me for following that prude’s advice.” That grin. “Much as I love her, Lavender isn’t the most creative in her advice. Part of me thinks she’s trying to live vicariously through me, and Hermione, and the other girls she gives advice to, since she’d never follow it. But, I’ll admit, every time I’ve ever talked to you, I was a bit more tempted to follow it each time.” That. God. Damned. Grin. “The first time she said it was in second year- you were distraught over the petrification of your closest friend. I wanted to console you but didn’t know how. At the time, it was a scandalous thought that she’d given me.” She popped a button on his shirt. “Then, when I wanted to get your attention third year, and at the big slumber party she whispered in my ear about how I should go about getting it. Everyone thought we were laughing about gossip, but I just couldn’t stop picturing it.” Another button. Harry was breathing heavily, trying to control his urge to grind his hips upward. “Then on the last day that year, you were so upset about something, and when she caught me looking at you, she frankly suggested how I could cheer you up- but I’d already been thinking about it.” She undid the last button holding his shirt closed, as he’d undone the top and never actually done the bottommost, running her soft, warm hands against his defined pectorals, tickling the light dusting of dark hair. “Every. Single. Day. In Sybil’s class. Lavender never went a day without suggesting I go wake you up, or try to…” She dug her nails into his skin lightly, drawing an unconscious groan from him as he continued to lustfully stare at her grin throughout her confession. “Excite you, about Divination, with her prescribed method, of course.” Her hands resumed their trailing of his chest, and he realized his own hands were stroking her sides, bunching her shirt up until his fingers felt the heat of her skin. “Then when you asked me to the ball, she lost her mind. She told me I had to do it, to get you wrapped up on my finger, to get you to buy me things, take me places… Merlin, buy me places, to hear her talk about how grateful you’d be.” She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his. “But I don’t want any of that. I just want to cheer you up.” Parvati kissed his cheek, again farther back, twice more while Harry’s head swam in a deep, confused lust- she’d never even said anything explicit and somehow he was twitching in his pants- until she nipped at his earlobe, whispering, “Do you want me to cheer you up, Harry?”

“Mmf.” Harry exhaled, his eyes sliding closed as Parvati’s lips closed on his neck, just under his ear, a light suction and her tongue almost massaging the sensitive skin there. He nodded, and her tinkling laugh came again, and between light kisses toward his shoulder, she instructed him to say it aloud. “Merlin, Parvati, you’re driving me crazy.” She hummed into his shoulder, nipping at him again, before she started working down his bare chest. He groaned openly as she traced her tongue in a light circle around his nipple, staring up at his face. She took that as positive feedback and lightly latched her lips to his chest, her teeth scraping against his surprisingly sensitive flesh. His hands slid up her shirt, running his strong fingers along her smooth back as her eyes smiled up at him. “Show me what you’ve wanted to do to me since second year.”

She sat up at that, biting her lip as her gaze couldn’t quite meet his, even as that grin remained. “I want you to be more… _vulgar_ , when you say it.” Her hands came to the armrests, allowing her to slide herself backward, off the seat, eyes flashing with mischief again. “A little more… desperate.” She was blushing, for the first time, and for the first time, Harry realized that her confidence was more bravado than anything, that her whole performance so far was a gambit, a risk she was taking. Parvati misread the contemplative face he was making as she lowered her body to the warm rug before the chair, thinking he was hesitant to do that, and added a soft “Please?” that doubled her blush.

Harry reached out, grabbing her pretty face with both hands, and pulled her to him, a quick peck on her lips, her nose, her forehead, before he whispered, “You want to see my desperation?” Parvati nodded against his hands, a tense mischief still in her intoxicating cognac orbs. He drew her face forward, slowly, without force, allowing her time to realize his intent, to back out if she so chose; she did not. He pressed her cheek right cheek to his inner thigh, and the girl made a mewling sound as she felt a warm rod pressed against her through the fabric of his pants. As she nuzzled against his manhood, her eyes slid shut, her lip between her teeth again. He saw both her hands tighten on the armrests, and as he moved his hands from her face, she continued rubbing against him like a cat, manipulating it up his thigh. “I can’t think of anything more desperate or vulgar than being brought to the point of throbbing by a girl who can’t even tell me she wants to play with my cock.” With a whimper, Parvati kissed along the length through his pants, and he couldn’t help but watch, entranced by her wanton display.

“Take it out,” she looked up to him, pouting, “please, Harry?” The confidence he’d gained in his days with Rachel came back with the force multiplier of being this worked up after such a lengthy stint of abstinence. So when he reached out to trace his fingers into Parvati’s hair, pulling her head back a fraction, she squeaked in surprise, and Harry’s heart began racing even farther, knowing he was pushing into unknown territory, trying to mediate between desperate fumbling and confident sexuality. He unbuttoned and began unzipping his trousers with his free hand, before reaching out to touch her face, his thumb tracing her soft lips.

“Take what out, Parvati?”

“Y-your cock.” The girl barely breathed the words, and after a sharp inhale, tried again. “Please let me see your cock.”

“Good girl.” He’d said it without thinking, barely registering how condescending it could be taken, but her eyes twinkled in lust, and so he reached into his open pants. Slowly, dramatically, he pulled himself free from the black slacks, his turgid weapon standing straight above her, and his ego soared at her audible gasp. Gripping the base tightly to keep his tool from bending under its own weight, he shook it in front of her face faux-tauntingly, before letting go, allowing it to fall forward, bouncing against her face. With a pleased hum, she chastely kissed the midpoint of his underside, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt a drip of precum drip and run into her hairline.

“Just the size of this is vulgar.” The lust-fueled girl slid her hands from the armrests to the boy’s hips, pushing her face forward until she pressed his length against his flat stomach, using her forehead to gently hold him in place as she dragged her nose across his underside, so she could nuzzle the other side of her face against his manhood. Kissing his shaft again, she let her lips linger open this time, kissing a bit deeper, letting her tongue get a ghost of a taste of his skin. Tugging at his pants, she mewled again as he lifted his hips, letting him grind against her face as she pulled his pants down to his knees before letting them drop to his ankles, all the while peppering his pulsing vein with wet kisses. She quickly brought her right hand up, grasping his tool and pressing it to her face, nuzzling the head with her cheek, her eyes closed seemingly, to Harry, almost in rapture. Her left hand traced up his wiry leg, until her fingers found his heavy balls, which pulled a grunt of appreciation from the girl. “Nnf, you’re hung like a monster, it’s so… fucking obscene.” Her breathless voice was muffled against his glans as she kissed his frenulum more deeply than she’d ever even kissed a boy.

“Fuck, Parvati, if you keep this up you’ll know my dick better than I do myself.” Harry groaned as she pulled away from his purple helmet with a lewd smacking noise, before the girl nudged the spot with her nose. The cute gesture in such a lewd spot was a microcosm of the whole experience for him; she was still in her too-big pajamas, her adorable face and demeanor contrasting so alluringly alongside the debauched actions she performed.

“Can’t say that’s not the goal, honestly.” The delivery was flat, honest, frank. Harry might have thought into it if she didn’t follow it with a series of quick kisses along his shaft at uneven intervals (she counted thirteen kisses, and committed the number to memory for her next Divination project) until she came to his sac. Her right hand wrapped around him, slowly pumping her fist along his sensitive head as her left hand hefted his balls to her face. Raising her eyes to his, she held his emerald gaze as she kissed first one, then the other nearly apricot sized orb. The cock-worshipping Gryffindor pressed her face forward, each heavy nut on either side of the bridge of her nose until she found the knot of muscle under the skin. Staring up at Harry past her slowly jerking hand, Parvati felt herself melting under the intensity of his arousal as she pressed her nose to one side and then the other, nuzzling the length of him that she couldn’t touch directly, but still wanted to map. His hot to the touch testicles rubbing across her cheeks and face was a happy collateral effect that she relished nonetheless, and as she pulled away, she stuck her tongue out, using the slick muscle to lift one of his heavy balls to her lips, sucking it into her hot mouth. Harry threw his head back and pushed her face forward, pressing her into his crotch again as he groaned out expletives in response to the unexpected pleasure.  

When her dark-haired crush released her hair, Parvati slowly pulled back, increasing suction as she watched him watch her slowly let the orb leave her lips, before audibly popping free and falling back to smack against his thighs. She pulled his tip toward herself, sliding her hand down his length, licking the crease of his underside in a long, slow motion that ended with her tongue flicking over his urethra. Pressing her soft lips to him, she lingered before winking at him and parting those gorgeous pink lips, sliding him into her mouth. This was incredibly far removed from Harry’s previous oral experiences. Rachel had been fast, almost utilitarian, eager to get him off more than enjoying herself. Parvati however, was going torturously slow, her actions exploratory more than anything, as if she was satisfying her own curiosity and perversions first, and pleasing him second. Centimeter by centimeter he disappeared into her hot mouth, her right hand squeezing his base. Her tongue traced up his ridge, and she twisted her head a touch to follow the curve until she made it to the dorsal vein, where her dexterous muscle reversed direction, coming back to his underside only to repeat the careful tracing of the other half of his helmet. “Bleeding hell, Parv, you’re killing me.” The girl only responded with a soft hum of appreciation. As she pushed down, her tongue maintained a measured pressure, laving his cock, a noted focus on his engorged urethral artery. She moaned as her eyes fluttered shut at the sensation of his head contacting her tonsils, ripping a moan from her enraptured partner. Her Gryffindor instincts took hold, and she knitted her brow in effort, pushing past the discomfort, gagging harshly and backing off briefly before carefully pushing forward again. Harry was panting as he watched her work, seemingly trying to pull him deeper with her lips. She coughed, a strange sensation for both of them, before she moved her hand from his base to the deepest her lips had gotten, slowly easing back, before pulling herself free, a thin strand of saliva hanging between her bottom lip and his swollen head.

“Barely even a quarter of it.” Parvati looked disappointed, but her voice was almost reverent. She glared at the incubus’ inhuman manhood, seemingly personally affronted that it had bested her. After a few moments, she’d caught her breath and forgave the object of her ministrations a chaste kiss of forgiveness. Lowering her face again, she placed a wet kiss at the point where his scrotum started to pull at his skin, her tongue poking out of her mouth to trace down between his balls, before she began taking long, slow licks of him, covering his sensitive skin in warm saliva. Leaning back, letting Harry see that her left arm was down her torso, buried in the crotch of her pajama pants, she blew a cooling breath onto his testicles, grinning lecherously as she watched them twitch under the skin. “Y’know Harry, there’s one more place I want to explore…” She brought her face back down, sucking one of his balls into her mouth again.

“Mmf- wassat.”

He grunted as she responded with her face still pressed into him, muffling her lusty voice as his wet balls rubbed across her pretty face. “I want to touch the farthest part of your manhood, a spot behind your cock, behind your balls.” Harry watched her lap at him between his spread legs, her right hand working the top portion of his shaft, fingers applying careful pressure to his head, carefully manipulating the vein along the bottom. He stared at her pretty face, wishing she’d open her eyes again, and felt her tongue teasing the area of skin where his scrotum became his perineum, shocked at how good it felt. “Can I, Harry?” He was staring open mouthed, lost in the moment, the sensation, the incredibly perverse situation. Parvati fluttered her eyes open, and Harry found himself lustdrunk as he swam in her whiskey irises, knowing he could not hold up to her muffled whisper. “Please?” Not trusting his voice, he nodded vigorously, nearly keening as her perverse joy flooded those damnable eyes.

Harry almost wished she’d fulfilled her request quickly, with any semblance of a sense of urgency. But as she very carefully raised her left hand to show him her fingers were incredibly slick, almost dripping with her own excitement. The anticipation was speeding his pulse to the point that he was convinced it would falter at any moment, and he nervously opened his mouth to voice doubts twice, but both times his words failed in his throat as he stared into her debauched gaze. Parvati trailed her hand slowly up his thigh, sucking an oversized ball into her mouth as her right hand continued her leisurely handjob, her slick fingers dipping low, making it clear where their target was. He found himself spreading his thighs yet wider, seemingly against his own conscious second thoughts, as her fingers teased between his muscled ass cheeks, tracing first up, then down his crack. Her tongue circled the testicle in her mouth, and her thumb teased at the pre-cum leaking tip of his cock, and her middle finger slowly teased its way into his anus. The incubus didn’t know how this witch was capable of smiling so lecherously with just her eyes, but he couldn’t move his panting gaze away from hers as her finger slowly pumped into him, dipping just a bit deeper with each motion. With a loud groan, he dropped his head back, a wave of tension leaving his body, and he felt her thin finger slide in to the knuckle in response. “Holy fuck, Patil.” She hummed a pleased sentiment, her mouth still full with one of his sensitive jewels. Parvati lifted one of her legs over his, and began grinding her needy lips against his shin, desperate for sensation herself, but unwilling to stop her perverse exploration. Harry moaned out loud as she worked her index finger into his ass alongside her middle, her fingers were thin, but he was just on the verge of discomfort, before she started curling her fingers- “FUCK!” The young wizard began uttering demands, pleas, expletives, anything for her to keep massaging that spot, and the horny witch between his legs couldn’t hide her outright glee. Her right hand increased its speed on his head beyond the crawl it had been operating at, her hips ground her dripping lips against his bare shin as she cursed the pants and panties that muted her sensations, she found herself moaning around his twitching nut as she increased suction on him, and her fingers continued their careful massage, milking her victim from every angle she could at once. The Gryffindor girl ignored his moans of warning, continuing on with her ministrations with no regard for his impending orgasm, focusing on the sensations of his ball twitching on her tongue, his cock throbbing in her hand, his ass squeezing her fingers in opposing frequency to her strokes of his prostate, and her own stunted humping of his leg, her needy clit grinding against his rough shinbone through her pants, until she felt him explode.

Parvati starred at him, her moans muffled by her insistence of keeping one of his balls in her super-heated mouth, watching his face as his orgasm took him. She convinced herself she could feel as his balls tensed, sending their load up into his body, where she urged the semen through his prostate, pumping up through his cock under her fingers, until it shot out into the air with the strength of a cannon. Her hips ground faster into his legs as she watched him orgasm, his eyes wide as ropes of semen splattered everywhere; drops and ropes fell across his stomach, the chair, the rug around her, but one hot strand that landed across her forehead, draping over her open eye, tented over eyelashes and onto her cheek, set off her own orgasm. Grinding harshly through her own ecstasy, she let his testicle drop from her mouth, moaning lightly as she rode his leg through the wave, reveling in the last few drops of his completion dripping onto her open lips.

Slowly easing her fingers out of him, Parvati smirked up to Harry once more as she pulled his tip to her face again, licking her lips before wrapping them around him, her hand milking one last bead of warmth onto her tongue. Pulling away, she kissed his tip lovingly, pressing one last kiss to the side of his shaft. Crawling up his body, she lapped up his still-warm cum from his flat stomach, planting a handful more kisses up his chest until she was straddling him again, beaming at him warmly with a single strand of his thick semen still draped across her face. “Mmm, you do make a girl work for it.”

Harry laughed breathlessly, before reaching forward to trace the last bit of his product from her face, gathering it on his thumb, before presenting it to her. The dusky-skinned girl parted her lips, moving them over his thumb carefully, until she closed them at his farthest knuckle, slowly drawing back while massaging the pad of his thumb with her tongue, sucking almost painfully hard, until his thumb left her mouth, clean. “That was the most erotic experience of my life.” That pulled another smile from the girl, this one somewhere between proud and bashful.

“Good.” She leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “I love your smile, I wish I saw it more.” The petite girl cuddled into hm, resting her flush face against his equally warm chest. “Maybe you can make that up to me sometime.” She pressed another kiss to his body. “In kind, I mean. I’m not Lavender.” He found himself playing with her hair, suddenly sleepy.

“Maybe I will.”

He felt her smile falter against his skin, and her voice came out low and hesitant. “I… know you’re going through a lot, what with the girl problems, and…” she sighed, gathering herself, “And with the ministry and such. But if you need to talk, or vent, or anything, just ask.” She giggled. “Maybe even if it’s just another blowjob, but don’t tell anyone about that, hm?” Harry smirked, glad she couldn’t see the sadness in his eyes at the moment. He pressed a kiss of his own to her head, against her vanilla scented hair.

“What if I just want this?” The words had fallen out of his mouth before he’d noticed, and he suddenly realized that he’d been craving his kind of closeness for weeks. He missed this almost more than he missed Rachel.

“Mmm I could be convinced to spend some time like this, I think,” came her lazy reply, nuzzling her face deeper into his body.

“Parv, I can’t-“

“I know.”

“But-“

“Neither of us want me to know, Harry.” Her voice wasn’t angry, but it was final. “I’m not my sister, I know there’s some answers that you don’t want, some questions you shouldn’t ask. I’m willing to be young, and… and stupid. While I can.”

“What if… what if all this was beyond your control?”

Parvati chuckled, part mirth, part shame, “At what point during the act of me rubbing my face into your balls did it seem like I was in control, Harry?”

“That’s not-“

“I know. I get that you feel like you don’t have a lot of agency in your life right now, being forced to compete in a life or death game, then the… results, and then the trial, everything. I understand.” She sighed sleepily, before correcting herself. “Actually, I understand that I don’t understand. But what I do understand is that I have a hot, naked, beast of a man under me, and a warm hearth at my back, and I’m sleepy as fuck from the most satisfying orgasm I’ve had in months.” The voice in Harry’s head that was still muttering about the biochemical changes he was inflicting on her merely by existing near her was slowly being drowned out by the languid desire to absorb this innocent affection, this companionship he’s sought his entire life.

The young witch sighed one last time, muttering into his chest as she threatened to doze off. “Just be a dumb, selfish kid with me, for once.”

Several hours later, Harry left her curled up in his chair with a blanket draped over her and slunk up to his bed to squeeze in a few hours of guilty sleep before class.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve developed a crush on Shefali Chowdhury because of this. I was originally going to do Lavender, but it felt too… hollow. Plus, running through blonde after blonde just feels cliché.
> 
> Speaking of blondes, some of you may be asking why I character-assassinated my own OC. You may hate her, but rest assured, she hates herself more. And I will explain why what went down did so. Well, I’ll explain the mechanism that brought it about, I dunno if I’ll put arrows around it going “THIS IS WHY THE RACHEL DEBACLE HAPPENED, SEE?” Tryna find a balance between getting my point across and respecting my audience.
> 
> Three more canon girls will definitely be making an (adult) appearance in this, but I’m looking to do 10-ish chapters at least. Suggestions for pairings will be considered, especially if they are particularly interesting, but I’ll be straight up with y’all, the plot of this is pretty well set. Well. I’ve got a point A and a point B and I’m gonna let the river sort itself out, but my point is, any suggestions beyond “I wanna see –character- do –act- in –setting-“ will be relatively futile. Sorry. Ish. Kinda.


	3. Sex-Magic Science

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day of school, Second conversation with Lilu, and Hermione's dark side.

Sex-Magic Science

Harry had left early the morning after his late night with Parvati, intent on sending a letter confirming a rendezvous with Fleur whatever evening she felt comfortable doing so. But as he crossed the common room, he quickly learned he was not alone; Hermione had apparently been lying in wait for him. The entirety of the walk to the owlery was a sort of interrogation. She grilled him about just how he’d gone about summoning Lilu, and after a bit of blushing vagueness, his bushy haired friend admonished him for not being pragmatic about the subject. As it was now a part of his nature, and potentially a key to the puzzle, she needed all the details, clinical but complete. And so with a sigh, he’d given them to her, answering every question she had curtly, but as completely as he could. After she’d heard her fill, she worried her lip and stared a few paces in front of herself, puzzling, until with a sigh, she gave it up for the time being. Harry sent his missive and Hermione badgered him about keeping focused on school this year, in spite of… everything.

At lunch, a handful of uneventful first-day classes later, Harry sat in his usual spot, and was joined by the usual group. Hermione found the seat on his left, eyes still sliding off into the ether, trying to solve her friend’s problem. Ron on his right, animatedly informing everyone in earshot how tired he was. The usual suspects, to be sure, but as Ginny squeaked into a seat across from Hermione, clearly trying to beat Harry and Ron’s dormmates, the seat opposite Ron was taken not by Seamus or Dean, but by Lavender, seemingly intent on agreeing with the gluttonous redhead on Harry’s right. Parvati sat next to her, and as Harry’s eyes glanced at her, she winked, a half-smirk on her pretty face. Hoping the sense of guilt in his chest didn’t come pouring out of his expression, he attempted to smile at her subtly before turning his attention to the meal.

“So.” Harry picked his head up, looking to his best mate’s younger sister as she spoke. He tried to place her expression, with the way her eyes flickered from person to person. She was trying to figure out what she was missing, and he wondered which of the oddities had caught her attention, his awkwardly hidden half-smile, Parvati’s flirtatious wink, Ron’s semi-coherent babbling, Lavender’s shockingly rapt attention to said babbling, or Hermione’s full-on meditative stare. “Judging by the lack of concern about it, none of you have had Defense yet?” Ron and Lavender carried on their own conversation, but the question pulled Hermione from the ether, and Harry could see Parvati perk up as well.

“What did you hear?”

“She’s a bloody bore, apparently.” Ginny looked down to her food, picking apart at a sandwich, popping a small piece into her mouth. “Honestly, though, if she’s just boring, she’ll exceed my expectations. Besides, I’ve never had a boring DADA. Maybe I could use the change of pace.”

“Lockhart was boring.” Harry found himself speaking if only to keep the conversation going, not wishing to find himself absorbed into Ron’s current malcontent about why the first day of class even exists. But more than that he was trying to keep his eyes off of Parvati, scared of the emotion he’d find in those honey-colored irises. He’d been weak, he’d knowingly exposed her to his nature without telling her. But how could he have told her? What would she have reacted with? A laugh? A scoff? Rage and shoves and telling him he’s an imbecile?

“Lockhart,” Ginevra popped another small chunk of sandwich in her mouth, “was a spectacular mess, more interested in flirting with eleven year old witches than anyone in the room’s safety. He wanted to be some kind of storybook hero for us.” Ginny turned her eyes to Harry, stage-whispering conspiratorially. “Did Hermione ever tell you about her crush on him? She GUSHED about him-“

“A pity he wanted to be a storybook hero to a perverse little redhead who already had one.” Hermione’s tone was had a biting edge despite the banal voice she delivered in. Not fixing her gaze to anything, her verbal riposte was almost lazy for how ruthless she cut. “Did Ginny ever tell you about her habit of stealing your Nimbus whenever she got-“

“Oh how original.” Ginny’s eyes were friendly, and her mouth was smiling, but Harry saw her shoulders tense even as she threw a lazy middle finger at Hermione, who merely smirked satisfactorily as she reached for a dessert.

Harry smiled, still ignoring the situation on his right, unaware of how haphazardly he was approaching this newest twist in the conversation. “Why’s that even matter? It was more than a year ago.” He laughed, looking to Ginny. “I mean, you could’ve just asked, why hide that you’re flying with my broom?” A blush crossed the redheaded girl’s cheeks, and when the brunette on his left slid from a satisfied smirk to a downright smug grin, Harry realized that he was missing something. “What?” Hermione rolled her eyes expectantly to Ginny, clearly wondering how she’d flounder her way out of this one, but when the Weaslette opened her mouth, only a hesitant noise made it out for a second, until…

“That’s how young witches learn to masturbate, Harry.” All four heads rocketed toward Parvati, who was teasing the rim of her goblet, her chin resting in her other hand. She was staring at him, her look reminiscent of Hermione’s, a knowing smirk, and Harry, half to gain bearing and half to pull himself out of her bourbon orbs flicked his eyes from face to face; Ginny’s eyes had slid closed and a deeper blush decorated her tensely smiling cheeks, Hermione looked torn between being aghast for her friend and wildly entertained that someone had taken her joke farther than she’d thought to, Ron was appalled that his conversation had been cut into with his sister’s sexuality, and Lavender was… staring at Ron.

“Why the hell are you talking about-“

“Ron, I just remembered, I have to grab my Defense book before Divination, care to come with? I want to hear more about that bludger offense. You focus on trying to hit the keeper?”

“I…” He looked to Harry, then to Ginny, then to Lavender, trying to figure out just what was going on without any of the context. Finally, slowly he stood with the blonde. “Yeah. Most people just aim for Chasers…” They drifted away together, leaving behind a shockingly tense scene. Ginny was on edge, and two seats away, an island at the table, Parvati was pointedly keeping her lazy, bemused gaze off of the redhead, and Hermione was on his left, still torn between her retaliatory joke landing so well (with help) and not wanting to push into the territory of actually upsetting her friend. Harry knew that if he didn’t take action- and soon- one of the two brash women opposite him would.

“Uhhm.” Well that’s not it. “So, uh, when did Lavender get into quidditch?” His voice started off strained, but he nearly saved it by the end, finally addressing Parvati.

“She isn’t.” It was a lazy statement, one that made it clear that the dusky witch felt no urge to take the charge out of the air. “She’s been going on about Ron for almost a year now. Some drivel about big feet and his potential if he had the right guidance. Also she wets herself about his cologne.” A languid shrug. “I got tired of her babbling about it and not doing anything, so I convinced her to… make a move. Something bold.” She quirked an eyebrow at Harry, resolutely ignoring Ginny. “Seems like she… made an impression, at least?” Her gaze lingered, boring into the incubus’ grey matter, searching. Suddenly she sat up, folding her arms in front of her and turning to the redhead at last. Parvati’s eyes brightened into a genuine smile, tone positively jovial. “I’m so sorry, Ginny. I didn’t think he’d react so strongly, I just knew Harry was missing cultural context and I could tell he was starting to feel, well, a little dumb.” The youngest Weasley opened her mouth to reply but hesitated, eyes flickering to Harry, before Parvati continued. “I wasn’t thinking clearly, I talk about risqué things with my sister so often I forget siblings can find it strange, and I was up all night,” Harry couldn’t decide if it was his imagination or if she ended that sentence breathily, “so I’m a bit out of it. Forgive me?”

With a deep exhale, Ginny quickly schooled her features, putting on a patient smile, and a light, disarming laugh. “Of course, I just didn’t want Ron to lose his wits being reminded his sister has a libido. Sometimes he acts as though it’s his life’s mission to assure my future husband of my absolute purity.” Harry glanced to Hermione, hoping to gauge if this peace was legitimate based on her reaction, but he found her only murmuring about cologne and scent, so he looked back to Ginny. “He means well, but if it weren’t for Lavender being quick about that, things could’ve gone south.” She chuckled with just a bit more mirth than seemed appropriate to Harry. “I mean, how weird is it, that he can face down Acromantulas and werewolves, but the concept that his sister can achieve orgasm breaks him?”

“Oh I didn’t realize he was that bad, I thought it was just the idea of you getting off on Harry’s broomstick.” Harry’s ears tinged pink as he swore that Parvati somehow put extra emphasis on the last syllable. “Strange, seeing how… affectionate your parents must be with each other.”

“Ick, now you’re going to gross me out.”

The conversation continued, the two girls across from him discussing early experimentations with masturbation, and Harry tried not to think about why they’d be so willing to discuss these things near him. Meanwhile, Hermione had pulled out her deciphered journal, scribbling in it wildly. Glancing, he caught the words ‘orgasm,’ ‘catalyst,’ and ‘pheromones’. Looking back up to her face, he opened his mouth to ask, when she snapped the book closed, looked at him wild-eyed, and stood. “I think I know what you did.” Immediately she turned and left, probably to the library, leaving the three Gryffindors in various shades of confusion.

They all shared a look, before Ginny leveled her twinkling russet eyes at the boy. “You being accused of rubbing one out too, Harry?” He opened his mouth to reply but found no words would come, and felt his cheeks start to redden.

“Something more then?” Parvati’s cognac stare did no better for his blushing state, and when she bit her lip subtly he stood up suddenly, excusing himself to class, while the two girls giggled mercilessly.

-=-=-

After a Divination class rife with awkward glances between his and Ron’s table and Lavender and Parvati’s, and a Defense class with a confrontation and detentions, Hermione dragged Harry by the wrist at a near sprint down a hallway. 

“Female sex pheromones.” The door clicked shut behind Harry, and he stared at Hermione in confusion. “That’s what did it, probably. I’d guess either orgasm or post-orgasm. She did achieve orgasm, correct?” He nodded, still lost. “So, the only thing I can think is that the pheromones from her orgasm reacted with your magic, allowing you to form a strong enough conduit for Lilu to traverse the veil. It’s the only thing you did then differently than any other time. Assuming you’ve masturbated in the room with the book before?” He nodded again, starting to get his footing. “And so it unlocked when you had sex and then you could summon him. I think a reasonable assumption is that female orgasm powers you, a sex-magic conduit, enough that you can pull him through.”

“O… okay. So I just have to mindfuck some poor girl again.” At this, Hermione took on an expression he didn’t quite remember seeing before. She was just as giddy as she always was when she had an ‘eureka’ moment, her face flush and her speech fast, but there was something else going on too. She was hesitant, contemplative, trying to find a way to deliver some idea. His eyes widened, and as he opened his mouth, she put both hands up in front of her, rushing out as many words as she could.

“This is the best way, Harry,” all came out as one word, quickly followed by, “and you know it. There’s no guilt if it’s me, I’m doing this to help, and to sate my own curiosity. And, if I’m being totally honest, my… drive.” He raised an eyebrow, mouth still slightly agape in mild shock. “Don’t give me that, you’re not an idiot. I’m almost sixteen, of course I’m… randy sometimes.” Harry walked over to a desk, sitting himself on top of it, staring at her in disbelief. “Often, actually. Basically all the time.”

“Hermione.”

“Right, sorry, anyway. Yes, this is the best way. You don’t have to use your power on another girl, and I appear to be immune to the… romantic influence of it, so, so long as we’re safe, I think we should be fine. Friends helping friends, right?”

Harry put his face in his hands. “This isn’t like we’re proofreading each other’s papers, Hermione.” He sighed and looked up, looking into the face of his most trusted friend, his greatest ally. “What are our other options?”

“Do Unspeakable-classified level research on metamagical theory in an attempt to punch a hole in the veil in an effective enough fashion to deliver information through, all while you swear off half the human race for the foreseeable future.” Hermione frowned. “Even with your mother’s research in hand, I don’t understand even half of it. I’d have to study everything she studied to get by with just her working notes in shorthand, like we have. We’re talking years of dedicated academic pursuits here, Harry.” She shifted her gaze and nervously began picking under a fingernail. “So far as other girls… there’s not many you can trust not to spread it around, I’d think. But we could find them, it would just take time.” Quickly, a passionate zeal rolled across her face, and she straightened, nearly glaring at him. “I know you’re attracted to me- it’s almost impossible for us to spend so much time together and not think about it- so I know that’s not the problem. If you’re trying to protect me from anything, I want you to stop. I demand you stop. If this power is going to drive me to the point that I feel magically compelled to have your children then it’ll happen eventually anyway, because I’m not going to give up my best friend over circumstances he can’t control.”

Harry was taken aback. Silence wafted between them, Hermione’s heated passion slowly cooling as the incubus’ cold dawning set in. After a few long minutes, he lifted his eyes to hers. “So uh. What’s the best way to go about this?”

“A-ah…” Her confidence faltered as realization dawned on her. “Sooner, the better, I s’pose. How, uhh… how much control do you have?” He raised an eyebrow in confusion, and she blushed lightly as she searched for her words. “We need to recreate the time it worked as best we can, and you clearly didn’t use a rubber that time…”

“But what if you-“

“Harry, I’ll be totally honest with you. I thought about this, basically all through Umbridge’s class, actually. And as… bloody hot as it sounds to be as scientifically thorough,” her blush was bright and strong, “as possible- you give me an orgasm, we try, I give you one, we try, and then repeat each repetition up the chain, slowly trading safety away for accuracy…” the wizard was struggling not to be incredibly turned on by the witch’s clear enjoyment of just such a fantasy, and a small part of him believed he could just see her ghosting her thighs together, could just make out the hint of the scent of her arousal. “Fun as that sounds, you need answers now, not in three days when we find out the condom cocks up the whole ritual.” She took a deep breath. “We can do it here and now, no condom, but not inside. If you trust yourself, I trust you.”

“And if I fuck up?” Harry’s lust was rapidly losing to his admittedly weak sense of caution, but he forced himself to acknowledge the possibility, forced her to acknowledge it.

“Well.” Hermione couldn’t keep the brief panic out of her eyes, and Harry’s heart dropped at that. But then a sense of playfulness pushed that panic away, a brashness he’d come to recognize within her. “Don’t fuck up.”

He stared at her a moment longer, the voice reminding him that this was a stupidly risky move slowly running out of steam and silencing itself. “Alright.” The incubus stood, facing his best friend, giving in to both her logic and lack thereof, and repeated his earlier question. “How do you want to do this?”

Hermione rolled her deep brown eyes, smirking in spite of herself. “What a romantic you are, no wonder girls can’t keep their hands off you.” She shifted her weight on her hip, her eyes slowly sliding down Harry’s body, taking in his somehow already disheveled uniform. His shirt was half untucked, his tie was loose, his robes hanging open. As the girl bit her lip, he couldn’t help but raise his eyebrow again. “Strip.”

“’Scuse me?”

“I mean I’m doing you a pretty big favor here, letting you use my virginity to fuel some spell, least you could do is earn it.”

For a moment, he questioned himself. This did feel very much like using his friend. But as he watched her nervously worrying her lip, he remembered this was her idea- this whole interaction was happening under her direction, as close to laboratory-like controls as she could muster. And with that he realized exactly what she was doing by making him strip.

“Mhm.” Harry stood, a sudden confidence overtaking him. “I see.” His robe fell off his shoulders, draped over the desk he’d been sat atop. “Inspecting the specimen?” Pulling his vest off over his head, he dropped the garment to the side, staring at the bushy haired genius as she tried to control her rapidly spreading blush. Knot of his tie pulled lose, he yanked it over his head, tossing it as well. Quickly unbuttoning his shirt, he maintained eye contact the entire time, somehow keeping his features cool even as he wanted to smirk at her rising blush as he pushed the shirt off of his shoulders, letting it fall to his feet. As he worked at his belt, her bottom lip was nearly chewed straight through, and he could see her thighs definitely sawing against each other. “Make sure your piece of meat is up to standard?” Pulling the belt away, he quickly kicked off his shoes, toeing off his socks as he popped open the button on his pants, kicking the offending fabrics away while slowly unzipping his trousers, watching Hermione’s eyes bulge as she realized he was not wearing undershorts. The incubus stood there, his thin, toned physique on display for his best friend, his slacks undone to the point that she could see his dark, trimmed pubes, and after giving her a few moments to reverse her decision, he pushed his pants down, letting them hit his ankles and quickly stepping out of them, covering about half the ground separating them, standing just outside of his arm’s reach, and confidently stood with his feet shoulder width apart, folding his hands behind him, in the small of his back, as he puffed his chest out. “Well?” His last question was a bit of a thrown gauntlet, one last dare, as he diverted control of the situation over to the brainy brunette.

Hermione hummed appraisingly as she stepped forward, quick to wipe the shock off her face, either at his boldness or his body, he couldn’t tell. The girl stepped forward, allowing her eyes to wander across her friend’s body. Her right hand came up, touching his defined chest, and she slowly traced it up to his shoulder, groping the muscle there as she stepped around behind him. Harry had started this little gambit with the utmost confidence that his nerdy friend would fawn over his athlete’s physique, but as he felt her hand smack down against his flexed glutes, a blush entered his face against his will. As her hands traced up his back, around his ribs, and down his flat stomach (if this had been a hungrier day his abs may have even been showing), as she outright groped his body, he felt pride and a tinge of shame.

The bookish brunette pulled him back against herself, hands splayed across his midsection, her chin on his shoulder. “You’ll do.” Her voice was non-committal, clearly reveling in the fact that she was in control. “You know you qualify as a magical creature now?” Her hands slid down his torso, tracing his hips, her fingernails combing through his trimmed pubes. “They tried to offer your people Being status, but none of you would come forward to accept.” Harry grunted as she grasped his half-engorged member with both hands, nipping at his earlobe. “I needed you to know that, Harry, so that you know when I say that this… _thing_ is downright _bestial_ I’m being very much literal.” The incubus let out a heavy exhale through his nostrils, trying to keep his resolve in the face of her massaging fingers working his shaft to hardness. “Actually, the laws for the Incubi and Succubae are remarkably outdated, behind even the vampires and veela.” Hermione’s hot breath was on his neck as she spoke, softly but not bothering to whisper. Her hands slowly started to stroke him, one on top of the other, with more than enough room to move in either direction. “As a matter of fact, I could quite literally _own_ you.” She let her index finger roll up onto his head, rubbing the bead of precum back into his swollen tip, pulling another grunt from him. “So maybe act a bit less uppity toward the one person with the ability to turn you into a glorified dildo, hmm?” Her voice was falsely sweet, but her hands sped up, jerking him off roughly.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh wouldn’t I?” She laughed, a quick, demeaning, three-syllable chortle. “On the one hand, I’d be showing the wizarding community exactly how backward they are, by enslaving their favorite celebrity. On the other, I’d have a nice, warm cock, or a willing tongue whenever I was randy. Or bored. Or wanted to show off for a friend.” Her hands were pumping him faster by the second, and he could start to hear her panting, even over his own labored breathing. “I mean, I could probably just rent you out rather than work. I could just picture it, I bring you around some posh purebloods- on a leash of course, can’t let my dangerous pet do anything rash- and encourage them to pet you, maybe even let them sit on your face.” Her eyes slid closed as she pictured the wildly immoral scene. “And then a few days later, those same pureblood _cunts_ have to beg a lowly mudblood to let a halfbreed _animal_ knock them up.” Harry was torn between the animalistic pleasure her hands were giving him and his conscious mind taking offense at being rendered nothing more than a pet. On the one hand, the insane rambling coming from his friend wasn’t something she’d ever do… probably. The dark, twisted part of his brain, the voice that had shrugged off the loss of Rachel and had told him to let Parvati have her fun, that voice purred at the idea of women begging for his children- circumstances be damned- and was quick to remind Harry that his ‘innocent’ friend had kept a woman captive in a jar for an indeterminate time.

“Merlin, you’re serious aren’t you?” He gasped as her hands flexed, tightening on his manhood to a point that was on the verge of becoming painful. Hermione made a cheerful hum in the affirmative, still pumping his shaft roughly. Harry dropped his head back, pleasure and sanity battling for control of his brain. “You’re a bloody sociopath.” She cackled with real mirth in his ear.

“Mm. S’pose I am. But what does that make you, my little incubus toy? Act offended if you like, but I felt you twitch, I felt your inhuman cock throb in my hands at the thought of being pimped out to my friends.” Harry could barely control his breathing as the witch bit his earlobe again. “Not to mention the full body shiver you had at the imagery of impregnating some poor woman.” Her finger was rubbing his pre into his helmet again, and the boy involuntarily groaned. “Maybe I will have to keep you leashed, you’re more of a dog than your godfather.” He could hear the mirth in her voice, and was slightly upset with himself that he couldn’t bring himself to be angry about her mockery of him. Instead he was focused solely on her soft hands, still pumping him, fast and rough. “Are you getting close, puppy?”

“Fuck- yes, so close.”

And suddenly his back was cold and his cock was throbbing in the air, abandoned. With a frustrated groan, he turned to look back at Hermione, seeing her stripping out of her robe as she approached the dusty teacher’s desk, spinning on her heel before jumping back to sit in the middle of the sturdy furniture. Slowly crossing one leg over the other, flashing her smooth thighs in the process, she crooked a finger at Harry, beckoning him. Taking a deep breath, he allowed himself a heartbeat to take in the image. She was still clothed, her uniform somehow pristine. One of her Mary Janes tittered up and down in a steady rhythm, the other resting on the desk by her left knee. From both of them rose knee-high socks, the standard grey with gold and maroon trim at the top, just under her kneecaps. A few tempting centimeters of thigh, the last vestiges of her summer tan still present on them, led to her uniform skirt, pleated and innocent. Her vest was loose, hiding much of her figure- but couldn’t quite disguise the significant swell of her chest. The tie was somehow still immaculate, the knot so close to her throat he wondered how she wasn’t uncomfortable. There was a disconnection in her face, however, that intrigued the young incubus. Her eyes were giddy, like when she was running through a tangent, gaining knew knowledge and running out of breath explaining it to her friends, but her mouth was pulled to a pursed line, and if he couldn’t see her eyes, the expression would tell him she was irritated, or worse.

Harry found himself rushing to her at the end of the frozen moment, and her head tilted back as her eyes shined with glee, even as her mouth pulled into a frown. His hands reached for her legs, his lizard brain ready to just pull her open and start, but he suddenly found her cold sole stopping him. With an extended foot against his chest, Harry was just now close enough to see the color of Hermione’s irises- any farther away than this they looked black, and even now, they were the darkest version of brown he’d ever seen. He found himself growling, but did not move to reposition her leg. “Down, boy.” She flicked her foot off of his chest, and he leaned an inch or so back, not hiding his disdain for her continued degradation of him. Leaning back on one hand, she extended the other toward him as she let her legs slowly drift apart, her skirt falling to hide any glimpse up at her panties. “I need…” The brunette’s hand slowly rolled at the wrist, palm twisting downward as she extended a single finger, pointing down. “…A bit more _convincing_ , I think.” Harry stared for a few moments, his lust fogging his thoughts and making it hard to hold on to the offense and irritation he knew he should feel for his situation.

Harry dropped to his knees, letting the pain shock up into his hips, letting it fuel his anger-tinted lust. Grabbing Hermione’s waist, he pulled her to the edge of the desk, wasting no time reaching up her skirt, fingers finding her panty line and yanking the thin cotton down her thighs. She’d been egging him on this whole time, and his sluggish brain couldn’t help but find anger and lust in her barbs, even if her barbs were that he was little more than an animal. Ripping the white fabric over one of her shoes- the one she’d used to make him heel- he let them dangle from the other ankle, pushing her knees up and out. “Ooh isn’t someone an eager puppy?” With another irritated, unthinking growl, he pushed his face under her skirt, pinning her knees to the desk to keep her spread eagle, immediately plunging his tongue into her wet pussy. Hermione moaned out sharply, and he felt her hand on his head over the thick fabric of her skirt. Wiggling his tongue between her lips, he pushed as far into her as he could, tracing along as much of her sensitive flesh as he could. She tasted less strongly than he’d been expecting, her natural lubricant thin and tasting of little more than skin and sweat, but it was still heady, he still felt the need to continue.

Pulling his tongue free from her walls, he closed his lips around as much of her mound as he could, sucking as he pulled back, listening to her groan as his mouth pulled lightly at her inner lips. Taking a quick breath, Harry took in what he could in the darkness of the skirt. A wide triangle of very closely trimmed pubes stopped just above her slit, her tight outer lips framing her clitoral hood and inner labia. He put his tongue at Hermione’s entrance and slowly dragged up, parting her virginal lips until her came to her clit, pressing a rough kiss to the hood before lapping at the skin, hoping to coax her button out. “Mmm, good boy, I love your doggie kisses on my pussy.” Another flash of irritation caused the incubus to put more pressure into his licks, as if he could pull the hood back with friction alone. Moments later, he felt a bead against his tongue, heard her gasp a bit more harshly than before, the pressure of her hand on his head increase. Closing his lips around the upper half of her neat quim he sucked harshly, tongue laving the tiny bead and surrounding skin forward and back, tracing the flat of his tongue up until the tip flicks over, before dragging the back of his tongue across her to repeat the process. Her moans were music to his ears- a perverse sense of vindication.

Suddenly he felt her skirt flip up and she was pushing his head away. Reluctantly he pulled away, looking up at his friend as she panted, head back against the desk. “F-fuck, I almost came early.”

“I think that’s only a problem if I do it.”

“As close to… perfect recreation… as we can…” Harry was impressed with his work, she was still out of breath. He noticed the top student laid out before him had removed her vest, and her tie and topmost buttons were undone, and with her skirt flipped up and her lacy cotton panties hanging from one ankle, a wet shine at the apex of her thighs… she was the image of teenage lust, frayed at the edges and loving it. He heard her mutter something breathlessly, missing most of it other than the word ‘in.’

“What was that, _Mione_?”

Hermione wrenched her head up to glare at the boy for using a nickname she despised. He glared back, more than a little anger in his body as it was. Her eyes hardened- his subtle attempt to sway the status quo seemed to be enough to pull the mirth out of her dark brown orbs. “Put. It. In.”

“Hmm.” He walked forward, standing between her legs, pinning her knee to the desk again with one hand, the other wielding his weapon by the base, dragging the underside of his head across her sensitive clit. Bouncing it off of her wet flesh, he let her gasp fade. “What in?” She growled his name, but he responded only with slapping his heavy shaft against her sensitive clit again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m just a glorified sex toy, remember?”

“Just shove your bloody demon cock in me, you uppity-!”

Harry shoved the first quarter of his obscene manhood into her crushing wetness. While he’d planned on not slamming all the way home immediately- he wanted to conquer her, not injure her- he was almost physically stopped by her clenching walls and pained outcry. “Holy fuck you’re so tight.” He started to ease back, but the leg he didn’t have pinned down wrapped around his back, making him pause. “Don’t you ever… y’know?”

The brunette nodded, slowly opening her eyes. Letting out a breath she added, “Mostly clit stimulation.” Her hips started to rock, slowly teasing at motion, not pressing any deeper than he already had. She reached for his hand, pulling it to where they were connected, and he put two and two together, rubbing at her nub with his thumb. Almost immediately she bit her lip and started rocking her hips, easing him into her crushing depths. Soon, her breaths were shallow again, and carried gasps of pleasure rather than discomfort. He opened his mouth to ask if he should move yet, but she cut him off. “And even when I do something penetrative… I don’t use beast-cock dildos.”

Harry barked out a laugh, sharp and biting. “Right back to it, huh?” Lifting the gates to his anger and lust a touch, he pushed forward a bit farther and harsher than he’d planned, not ripping her open, but pushing deep enough to see the discomfort in her eyes before pulling back, pushing a bit farther every time. “Acting so superior while you cum all over my, what was it, my demon cock?” The young witch groaned as he thrust his hips roughly, rolling her head back until her shoulders came off the desk as she felt him impact her cervix. Harry laughed harshly, still thumbing her clit lazily, keeping her motor going but not getting her off. “You can’t even take it all! You’re just a little girl playing at dominatrix, but I could push half-again more ‘demon cock’ into you if your cunt wasn’t as shallow as your façade.” He looked down, acknowledged that he was exaggerating- she had taken all but the last handful of centimeters- and began pulling back. The no-longer virgin under him groaned, and after slowly dragging a hand’s width out of her, paused until she looked at him, breathing heavily. Waiting for her to open her mouth, he cut off whatever she went to say as he shoved back in, bouncing his helmet against her cervix again, pulling a squeak from her instead, and started pumping that same track back and forth, not sparing force.

“Fuck. You. You. Fucking. Animal.” She dropped her head back to the desk, both of her hands going to her chest, roughly massaging her chest as her best friend rhythmically pounded her tight hole. Laughing, he let go of her knee, reaching for her shirt, the incubus roughly ripped it open, scattering buttons and tearing the fabric in places, pulling a startled squeak from his partner. Still thrusting forcefully, his hand then slid up her thin stomach, pushing her bra up over her breasts, and her hands simply found their way back to the swaying orbs. He watched her body as he pushed into her over and over, her gasping face framed by her wild hair, her hastily bared body the epitome of sexiness in his testosterone-drowned mind. Small hands applied needy pressure on tits they couldn’t hope to properly contain, and the flesh wobbled enticingly in a frequency he dictated with his strong thrusts. Her body was thin and tapered in to her appealing waist, flaring out subtly to her thin hips, where her skirt still resided, hitched up and useful only as a lewd decoration. Cotton panties still hung from her ankle, both legs held up and out, spreading herself for him.

“Animal?” Harry buried himself in his first female friend, making sure to push just farther than was comfortable, pushing against her sensitive insides. “If I fuck like an animal…” The incubus pulled out, before roughly rolling her onto her stomach, wrenching her hips over the edge of the desk and pulling her up onto her tiptoes, feet spread more than shoulder width. “…Then _clearly_ you _want_ to be fucked like an animal.” He slammed home, likely bruising her cervix if he hadn’t already, and she shouted an obscenity. One hand stayed on her hip, the other wormed under her, finding her sensitive clit again, working his fingers over it, quicker now. Hermione pressed her face against the heavy desk, openly moaning, hands gripping the edge of the desk, and Harry could just make out the sides of her breasts squishing out under her chest as they pressed into the cold wood. Rutting into her like the animal she accused him of being, he worked her nub roughly, working her up toward the coming end. “What would your parents say? Your good, Christian mother, so proud of her studious daughter? How scandalized would she be, seeing you screaming obscenities as you cum on an incubus cock, giving your virginity to summon a demon?” The witch whimpered, clearly overwhelmed by sensation and his turnabout, knuckles white, and he suspected she may be biting into the desk’s edge.

He thrust in silence for a few minutes, both of them soaking in the lewd sounds of the act, the labored breathing and pleased gasps, the wet plunging and slapping of hips on asscheeks, the squeak of the desk against the stone floor. Soon, Hermione’s tight, gripping walls were too much for the boy. “Close?” She moaned in the affirmative, pushing herself up and starting to thrust back at him, her voice growing louder with each thrust, until her knees and elbows failed as she shouted inarticulately, barely catching herself. Harry was undone by her orgasm, and almost failed to pull out in time, but with his own shout of “FUCK!” he wrenched himself back, pulling free, and his brain shut down as he watched his best friend drop to her knees where she stood, bending backward, one hand balancing herself as the other primped up her tit, her face and chest presented for him. Hermione stuck out her tongue, staring up past his cock into Harry’s face as he pumped his fist over his slick cock twice, before the first rope of cum erupted from him, streaking over her inverted face, starting at her cheek, running a badly-drawn line across her tongue, over her chin, onto her slender neck. The still orgasming witch jumped lightly at the impact, groaning at the heat. His next shot arced a little farther, splattering against the sizable, pale tit she presented for him, and she immediately began rubbing it into her skin. Another rope landed on her forehead, and started to drip up into her hairline, and as Harry rolled his head back, lost in the sensation, he didn’t notice the last of his orgasm land in her wild mane of curls. He felt her collapse backward, her warm shoulders contacting his bare shins, body shivering. He looked down at her awkward position, her feet by her hips like she was doing some kind of athletics stretch, her torso sort of draped between where it was propped up on his shins and where her hips rest on the stone floor. She hummed as she ran her hands up his calves, unthinkingly smearing his semen into his right leg.

“You’re so warm.” The satisfied witch sounded out of it, and Harry laughed. “Mmm. Laugh it up, Potter.”

“No more dog jokes?” He smirked down at her. Hermione opened her dark brown eyes, a bit of concern in her eyes.

“I… some people get off on… degrading fantasies…” Her eyes drifted away from his, a guilty look on her face. The young wizard squatted down, ignoring the fact that this put his softening member directly into her hair, and pulled her chin back to face him.

“Hermione. You were experimenting with your sexuality.” Emerald eyes tried to pour sincerity into unsure brown ones. “I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.” She smiled softly. “It… it was just fantasy, though, right?”

“Oh, Merlin, Harry, of course. I don’t think you’re subhuman, and I’d never _enslave_ you- anyone, actually.” The muggle-born witch smirked. “Well, the idea of you pumping an Ubus baby into some stuck up Death-Eater sympathizer is kinda hot.” They shared a quick laugh. “Mmm. Harry?” He let out an inquisitive ‘hmm.’ “Can you get your dick out of my hair?”

-=-=-

Cleanup was a jovial affair, both parties laughing as they redressed, magicked buttons back on, vanished the ejaculate Hermione hadn’t rubbed into her skin (“You got it all in my hair, you arse!”), and in minutes they were back to business. Harry had his mother’s journal in front of him, sitting in the smell of sex once again, and read the incantation.

“Ego rogo conloquium cum Rex de Affectio.”

The teens were standing with the student desks, watching the teacher’s desk, and immediately saw a pair of hands reach out from under the desk, grasping the legs and pulling a torso from an impossible space, until his knee came free, foot contacting the ground at last, and Lilu stood up from nothing, towering over the friends. The demon smoothed his tunic, something Harry recognized as a slow, calming motion the horned man had done before as well. Lilu bowed at the waist, reaching out a huge hand to Hermione, greeting her. “Miss Granger, pleased to meet you.” The witch in question glanced to Harry, who shrugged, before putting her dainty hand in the demon’s. Locking his bright blue eyes on hers, he closed to distance to press his warm lips to her knuckles, before slowly standing, allowing his hands to rest behind his back, making efforts to appear as polite and non-threatening as possible. “I am called Lilu. Quite the performance you gave to get me here. I have my doubts, I’ll admit, about the key to Ubus magic being pheromones. We have no true analog to such on my side of the veil. Perhaps something for you to research, no?” He turned his gaze to Harry. “I must apologize, Harry, I did not think you would take the news so harshly last time, I forget that humanity has changed much over the millennia, that pregnancy is somewhat more… nuanced and controversial now.”

“I should also apologize.” Harry frowned, forcing himself not to shuffle his feet as the progenitor of his newfound race looked on him with a kind expression. “I shouldn’t have run out like that, you clearly had more information you wanted me to have. That was… childish of me.”

Lilu brought one hand from behind his back to wave off the idea. “Don’t dwell on it, young Harry. My sisters reminded me that childhood lingers more than I remember it. The Ubus gene adapted to the idea of adolescence faster than I. Which brings me to one of the major points I wanted to explain.” The demon returned his hand behind his back, again resuming his polite posture. “You are currently entering a… second puberty, of sorts. Your incubus traits- the pheromone release, the increased libido- are coming to fruition now, and this is… atypical timing.”

Hermione elbowed her friend, muttering, “Classic Harry.” The incubus in question rolled his eyes, before waiting for further explanation.

“Generally, this change happens at the onset of adulthood, as characterized by leaving home. The stress of leaving a familiar environment triggers the change. However, significant trauma can force the change early.” Hermione glanced sidelong at her friend, trying to gauge how Harry took the reminder that he had seen a friend die, that a lich was out to kill him. A pang of grief entered the young man’s eyes, but steeling himself, he nodded for Lilu to continue. “There are upsides to this, however. You will become more powerful, far more so than you would have become as a wizard alone.”

“…But?”

“…But, as I’m sure you’ve already noticed, your natural urges will be stronger than ever, and will grow for quite some time.” Harry looked back on his inability to turn Parvati away in the heat of the moment, and wondered how much worse it would get. Would he start to force himself on women? Inflict his unnatural infatuation on them intentionally?

Hermione spoke up for the first time. “Why are some people, like I seem to be, immune to his… power?”

“Prudent question. With a nuanced answer. The broadest factor being that it doesn’t work on beings with no possible attraction to the Ubus in question- a succubus cannot seduce a gay man, for example. If the Ubus is not attracted to the being in question, the magic of the pheromones will not target them- it isn’t a blanket effect, like you’ve observed in the veela. Lastly, the group you, young Hermione, clearly fall into, is not nearly so clean- and the simplest answer is that I don’t truly know. There is a chance it is affecting you but you are in considerably more control of yourself than others, but these pheromones are known to- very rarely- drive partners so far as to change their entire personality in order to become lovers with the Ubus that they’ve become infatuated with. Lily Potter theorized some kind of spectrum of susceptibility, with the pheromone having different levels of effectiveness on a being based on their genetics. My sisters also contend that their branches of love offer protection, something many Ubus hold as folk wisdom, often seeking Lilith’s help in fostering a loving friendship, to find companionship that isn’t temporary lust. I cannot say for sure.”

The brainy brunette looked to her dark-haired friend with a disappointed frown.

Harry, however, had caught on a certain phrase. “Why is it temporary?”

Lilu closed his eyes, sighing with no small amount of pain. “This is the adaptation that hurts my children the most, but was essential to their survival for so long.” Opening his otherworldly blue eyes, he stared sadly at Harry. “Upon conception, the effect of the incubus pheromone is abruptly canceled. This incentivized these new incubi to wander, rather than roost like their predecessors. By cutting the infatuation, the incubus had no reason to stay- he was unloved where he was- and the pregnant being has no reason to follow, and is generally left with nothing more than a strange feeling that she was tricked.”

“That’s terrible!” Hermione uttered, before looking to Harry, whose mouth was hanging open, horror and understanding dawning on his face.

-=-=-

Harry excused himself to the corner of the room, unable to absorb more, and Hermione, who he assured could not console him at the moment, dutifully grilled Lilu for more information, scribbling what she could in her deciphered notebook. While the metamagic and Ubus history lesson stretched on behind him, The Boy Who Lived stared at his hands, mourning the family he’d always wanted and now could never have. He could find a girl to stay with him anyway, but he had no desire for a loveless marriage with kids doomed to the same fate. And then it dawned on him- every child, every Ubus he sired would live this hellish existence, with no true lovers, no true family. This must be why the species was going extinct, who would wish this on others?

“Young Harry?” The distraught incubus raised his eyes to the friendly demon before him, seeing him in a new light. His creation, a creature that thrived on love, had changed itself in ways he hadn’t predicted, and in an attempt to save itself, had cut off its own limbs, and now struggled to exist at all. It was profoundly sad. Lilu’s children, the progeny of the stylized King of Love, were doomed to die alone and unloved. “My time runs short for this trip.” Harry glanced to Hermione, who was reading through her notes, and he glanced back to Lilu, who still stood in his polite stance, hands clasped behind his back. “Two things, before I go. I think you see now, why your mother wanted to change their image, to cleanse their history. Maybe, if they were more accepted, if they could settle down again…” The demon closed his eyes, sighing. “Maybe.”

Lilu brought his hands in front of him, clapping them before his chest as he opened his eyes again. “Secondly, something I should’ve told you already. I was going to, but didn’t want you to sprint out again, and then it slipped my mind until now.” He began to pull his hands slowly apart, and between them a length of papyrus materialized, ink spreading across it before two sets of amazed eyes. “You were followed here, and spied upon. This girl watched and listened to your lovemaking, and was so overcome with lust that her every thought spawned new pools of magic on my side of the veil, and so directing it back through you, one of these pools can manifest as her likeness.” Finally, he closed his fingers around the opposite ends of the scroll, presenting the portrait of a girl very clearly mid-orgasm, lips open in a gasping, strangled moan. “I do not have a name, but her thoughts of you tell me she knows you. I hope this helps.” Lilu bowed deeply again, sweeping one hand under his torso, his other lightly placing the scroll on the desk behind him, before his entire body disintegrated into a fine dust, evaporating into the air around where he’d stood.

Harry and Hermione approached the desk, staring down at the photorealistic image of one of their classmates, features screwed up in pleasure, one pale blue eye visible, the other hidden behind her long black bangs, all perched above the most disconcerting detail of the picture- a silver and green tie.

“Tracey Davis knows you’re an Incubus.”

-=-=-

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Alright, dunno how this chapter will be received. Guess we’ll see.
> 
> Next thing I write will probably be a LoL oneshot featuring Xayah and Rakan pumping (lulz) some Brotherhood of Shadows grunts for intel. Hope everyone is in the mood for some violence with their smut.
> 
> Next chapter of this will feature two major conversations- one of which will be Fleur. Writing her is going to be… difficult. She’s hard to capture well without distorting her into an unlikeable parody of her character.
> 
> Also, contemplating summing up Hermione’s notes and just posting them as a between-chapter, or slowly working some of the factoids into dialogue. Thoughts?


	4. Time for a little punk rock

Chapter 3- Time For a Little Punk Rock

“I don’t like that new haircut. She was much cuter with the ponytail and bangs combo.”

“Ginny, what is she _doing_?”

“Same thing she always does. Stealing glances at you when she’s not acting like the purebloods ignoring her doesn’t bother her.” The redhead sounded almost amused by the situation.

“Gin, Harry doesn’t mean to be short, he’s just a bit… worried.” Hermione, however, did not sound worried in the slightest- which was almost as infuriating as Davis’ lack of action. His (irritatingly) calm confidant had pointed out that the Slytherin did not know that the pair were alert to her eavesdropping, and therefore had no reason to show her hand- blackmail, the worst case scenario both were planning for, required more time and patience than that.

“Whatchya mean, the snake stares at Harry all the time?” Ron, who’d been led to believe that the Slytherin girl had seen Harry communicating with Sirius, picked up on something the incubus had ignored in his irritation.

Ginny, sitting across from them, shrugged, her eyes pointed at Harry’s face, but unfocused as she concentrated on her peripheral vision. “She usually just glances occasionally. Right now she’s staring. Maybe ‘cause of whatever she heard, maybe because she caught you staring. No way to know really.”

Gulping down a mouthful of mostly-chewed meat, Ron expressed some disbelief. “And you always notice people glancing about in the Great Hall?”

“She isolates herself, making her quick motions easier to notice.”

“Some kinda seeker training method?” Ron sounded almost impressed, but didn’t notice the dark look flash across Ginny’s face. Harry, who was staring at her over his tented fingers, food ignored between his elbows as he tried to will himself into seeing through her eyes, couldn’t help but catch the seemingly reflexive anger as it marred her pretty features.

“Something like that.” The youngest Weasley mumbled. “Why would she care about Sirius anyway? She’s not a Death Eater- shit.” Her eyes shifted and focused, clearly lighting on something. “She’s waving at me.” Harry closed his eyes- that’s two people caught spying in one lunch period. Stealthy his group was not. Suddenly Ginny was blushing, voice indignant. “Ugh, vulgar bitch.” As the girl raised her hand to throw an emphatic two-finger salute at Tracey, the trio turned to look.

Tracey Davis had always had an air of imposing beauty- and her new style added to her daunting image without sacrificing her looks. Silky black hair sloped over one shoulder, her bangs pulled away from her face to the same side, out from in front of her eyes, unlike in the photorealistic drawing Lilu had left. One side of her head was shaved to the scalp, and by pulling her mass of long hair to the other, it emphasized the look. Her already plump lips were highlighted by a bold crimson stain, dark against her pale complexion, and her small nose and angular jawline gave her an almost delicate appearance, if it weren’t for her eyes. Her upturned, gunmetal eyes usually carried a practiced boredom, but every other emotion they chose to express was sharp, intense to the point that it was hard to maintain eye contact. Once, during a long night in the dorm discussing adolescent topics, Dean had admitted he was rather attracted to the pale Slytherin, and before anyone else could add their opinion, Seamus delivered a grave warning: “Oh no, my friend, no, no, no. You remember those eyes of hers, you remember the way they make everything about her feel a little more dangerous, yea? And if you see those eyes, know you’re looking at a crazy woman.” At the time everyone had laughed, but now Harry could see some wisdom in the words. Her eyes looked almost disdainful, as if she were trying to push her distaste into you, even as she held her fingers in a V in front of her lips, her long tongue draped down over the vertex, clearly taunting Ginny for being caught staring. As soon as she caught Harry’s eyes, however, a new emotion cut through them: amusement. Pulling her tongue back into her mouth, she smiled mysteriously, turning her hand to wave her fingers at him. For a few heartbeats, the two stared at each other from halfway across the hall. Finally, she cocked an eyebrow, and very deliberately mouthed two words at him, a question. ‘You know?’ The incubus felt his face tense as Hermione grasped his knee under the table, clutching him, holding him back. For just another moment, Tracy Davis looked terrifyingly contemplative. Then she abruptly stood, blew a kiss to the group with a smirk, and turned on her heel, out of the hall in seconds.

“Well… Fuck.”

-o-o-

 Detention with Umbridge did nothing to improve Harry’s mood. Staying up late to work on the absurd amount of homework given the first two days (“You need to be prepared for your OWLs”) was also digging at him. The young wizard could feel a few sets of eyes lingering on him, and realized he was letting it distract him when Ron finished his work before himself.

“The toad really wore you down, huh?”

Harry glanced over to the boy, catching Hermione’s concerned look, which he’d felt on his back for some time. “A lot has me worn down, mate.” The incubus cracked his neck, using the exaggerated motion to glance around, trying to put faces to the eyes he could feel on himself as Ron chuckled uneasily. Parvati wasn’t a surprise, though she was trying to not be obvious about her staring.

“Yeah, OWLs are gonna be stressful.”

The dark haired boy hummed an affirmative. Settling back into his chair, he sighed, looking forward and realizing Ginny was staring at him with genuine curiosity on her face. He locked eyes with her and surprisingly she merely looked back at him. “Wanna take a break? Walk me to the kitchens?” Holding her gaze for a moment, he tried to recall if she’d been acting strangely and couldn’t place anything.

“Sure.” They stood, Harry intentionally avoiding Hermione’s alarmed look, and made their way out of the common room. They walked a while in silence, the redhead comfortably close to the incubus without invading his personal space, their pace slow and patient.

“So what was it really?” Harry glanced sidelong at her, wondering what she was asking. “You keep the mirror in your trunk, and Hermione isn’t dumb enough to talk about Snuffles in the halls. Plus, why would Tracey care about him?” They turned a corner, still walking slowly. “I’m not mad, I understand that sometimes Ron is better off not knowing some truths. But I want to help. I can’t do that without understanding what Tracey knows. And there’s only one thing that comes to mind that explains Hermione’s well-hidden mortification, her sudden unsureness with how close she can physically be to you, and Tracey’s interest.” Ginny looked at him, locking her russet orbs on his emerald ones. “Is that all it is? She caught you two?”

Harry stared at her, trying to figure her out. “It’s… not that simple.”

“Is it ever?” The redhead smirked. Looking ahead, she continued. “I won’t push, but unless it was way kinkier than I expect, the only major fallout you’ll be dealing with is my brother.”

They walked a bit longer, the silence suddenly less comfortable for Harry. “How do you feel about me?” He blurted, once again the words were in the air before he knew he’d thought them. “Since… the third task.” Ginny shuffled to a stop, looking at him. Her eyes almost looked crimson in the torch lit hall, and they flickered between his, searching.

“I had a crush on The Boy Who Lived since I could talk. I traded that in for a crush on my knight in shining armor when you saved my soul, but over the years I realized I was still crushing on the made up image from when I was six.” Her voice was shockingly even. “I started forcing myself to see you as Harry. Not the Boy Who Lived. Not the Slayer of Basilisks. You’re very different from all of that, you know. I wanted to be your friend, your ally.” She sighed, blinking. “Any time prior to this summer, I never would’ve seen the vulnerability in your eyes when you asked that, the fear. I’d have laughed it off, try to hide my lingering crush, definitely not told you I feel the urge to protect you sometimes. But I heard you discussing your dream with Ron and Hermione. I… I know I shouldn’t have eavesdropped. But I need you to know, I understand. I know you don’t wanna talk about it. It helped me to know someone else had done that- seen through his eyes, felt how cold he was.” The youngest Weasley steeled herself, straightening her shoulders as she realized she’d wilted. “I want to help you kill him.”

“You’re not… er… you don’t find me unexplainably more attractive since June?”

She finally looked taken aback, her bravado broken. “Aren’t you… with Hermione? Why does this-“

“Ginny, please, just be honest.”

Confusion flooded her face, but she maintained eye contact. Her slightly parted lips came together, pursing as she took on an air of clinical detatchment. “The moments that define my physical attraction to you are mostly from the beginning of second year and the World Cup. Why does this matter, Harry?” She had a slight blush, and despite the waver in it, her voice was clear and hard.

“I… things changed, over the summer. Tracey found out how. I need to keep her quiet though.”

“Or he could use it against you, once it got to him?”

“Probably. If it didn’t just ruin my life to the point that he didn’t have to.”

Ginny stared at him, confusion still evident on her face. “Alright. I wish you’d tell me more, but I understand. Just let me know how I can help, and I will. Whatever it is.”

Harry smiled at her. “I will.”

“Good.” She turned to start walking toward the kitchens again. “So how was Hermione?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, she’s a freak isn’t she? I mean, she _reads_ porn, like a _loon_.”

-o-o-

The sound of Parvati’s strangled moans drowned out all of Harry’s anger over his second detention with Umbridge the next day.

The petite girl had been waiting just around the corner when he left the pink torture chamber, and she was quick to admonish him again for not smiling enough. His initial reaction was to try to get away from her, but she’d responded to his hesitant words by pushing her body into his personal space, looking up to him, hugging her books to her chest as her teeth tugged on her lip again. Looking down into her mischievous whiskey eyes, he felt his general frustration take new form, tensing his entire body. Pushing her against the wall, he pressed his palm under her chin, tilting her head up, and after she whimpered, he stared into those inhibition destroying eyes and closed his fingers around her throat. Her lips parted in a gasp as he pressed down, her windpipe closing under the pressure of his seeker-strong fingers, and he heard her books clatter about their feet as she dropped them, grasping at his robes. He ground his hips into her flat stomach as she pressed herself against him. When she choked his name past his hand, he lost himself.

Vaguely aware of his books falling to the floor as well, Harry used his now empty left hand to spin the girl around, pivoting her on one foot so that she stood framed by one of the countless recessed windows in the castle. His hand still around her neck, he nudged her feet apart with his toes, and she complied immediately, moving them just outside her shoulder width, her fingers grasping the edges of the window recession, her thighs pressed into the sill. Pulling her head back onto his shoulder, his free hand starting to undo the sash of her robe. “I have to be somewhere soon, a meeting. But I can repay you for the other day, here, now, if that’s what you want?” Parvati let her eyes slide closed, nodding slowly as her robes fell open. Wasting no time, he grabbed the hem of her skirt and hiked it up, sliding his hand into her panties without hesitation. Tracing her slit, he quickly isolated her clit between two fingers, beginning to flick his hand back and forth quickly, trying to get her off as fast as possible. Judging by the gasps he could feel rising through her throat under his hand, he was off to a good start. “Are you even trying to be quiet, Patil?” With a whimper, she nodded weakly while her hips humped up into his hand, seeking even more friction. Parvati had both of her hands wrapped in his robes at his hips as he stopped flicking her clit and worked his palm lower, pushing two fingers into her slick hole as he also squeezed down even harder on her throat, her eyes finally popping open as she choked on a gasp. “You’re soaked, Parv. You’re going to leave a trail back to the tower at this rate.” Pumping his fingers in a bit deeper, Harry sought the bit of skin inside her opposite her clit. “I should’ve known a vulgar little witch like you would get off on getting caught. You can hardly breathe and the breath you have you’re using to moan loud enough for the dungeons to hear.” Suddenly she choked out something that sounded vaguely like his name, and he realized his fingers had found the spongey flesh he’d been seeking. Stroking it quickly with both fingers, he felt her nearly vibrating against him. “Do it, Parv, cum around my fingers while I choke you in the middle of the hall.” Her eyes rolled up as she practically threw her hips forward, her weight collapsing back onto Harry as she thrust herself against his hand. He released her throat and Parvati immediately drew in a stuttered breath and released it with a shout.

Looking about, Harry let the witch come down for a few more seconds, lazily stroking her slit, smirking at her twitches when his fingers traced her clit. He spun her again, sitting the petite girl on the knee-high window sill so she could catch her breath, before squatting down to gather their books. Once he finished, he placed hers next to her and stood, before asking if she was okay. Parvati lurched out, throwing her arms around his waist, burying her face into his robes. “I was supposed to cheer you up, Harry.” She let out a long, happy sigh. “You’re too good to me.” With a concerned laugh, the incubus ran his hand through the girl’s soft hair, petting her as she nuzzled him. His heart melted a little at her hurt groan when he reminded her he had somewhere to be soon. She stood, tip-toeing to kiss him lightly on the tip of his nose, before she gathered her books. “Wish you had time for me to reciprocate. Better be careful though, Potter, or I’ll end up falling for you hard.” As she walked away, Harry stared after her, wanting nothing more than to chase her down and finish what he’d started.

-o-o-

Slipping out of the door of Honeydukes, Harry hurried to a nearby alley and shed his cloak, stuffing it into his pocket and stepping back into the street. The sun hung low in the sky, threatening to set within the hour, but Harry was still not running late despite his amorous delay. As he swiveled his head, he hesitated as he saw… something. A shimmer, some kind of movement, like a bush rustling as a small animal darted into it. Taking a few more seconds to try to place exactly what he’d seen, he eventually shrugged and continued on his way.

Fleur was easy to find in the mostly empty Broomsticks, and she waved to him with a cheerful smile. As Harry smiled back, he realized he had absolutely no idea how he was going to approach the conversation, much less breach the topic of his Ubus status. As he strolled across the bar, her warm, polite smile shifted into one filled with playfulness, one of her delicate eyebrows approached her silvery hairline, and he felt a mask of confusion settle into his features.

“If you were… busy, I could have waited, no?” The French witch murmured furtively as he sat at the booth. “At the very least I hope you took your time with the poor girl.” Harry flustered, trying to stutter out some denial, caught off-guard by her accusation. “Nonsense, you are radiating her aroma. Even were I not Veela, I would probably smell her on you, you dog.”

“Oh, so you’re as much your father’s son as you look, then, Harry?” Rosmerta had turned up to their table just as Fleur finished her admonishment. “Slinking from a snog to sneak off school grounds to meet up with some pretty older witch, eh?” The bar madam levelled a conspiratorial wink at Fleur, as if to assure her they were in on the same joke, both of their smiles mocking him good-naturedly. Harry blushed despite himself, rubbing the back of his neck and muttering ‘err…’ beneath his breath. “Now, just so you know, I’m supposed to tell you off and drag you out of here by your ear and tell you to get back to the castle. But Miss Delacour has been quite the guest, and I always had a soft spot for Potters anyway. So, I’ll give you a pumpkin juice, and forget you were here, hmm?” She set the drink in front of him and reminded Fleur to ask for anything she needed as she walked away.

“So, I must confess, I was a bit amused to ‘ear you ‘ad become so admired by the ‘Ogwarts girls, but I believe I understand now. You ‘ave bulked up, no?” Harry nodded, a slight pang as he remembered doing general exercises to get Rachel off his mind- it didn’t account for his muscle mass on its own, but it was assuredly part of it. “And that cologne. Very subtle, even if it weren’t for that girl’s scent. It is… powerful though, very arousing. Besides, I’m sure each girl believes only _she_ can save the troubled boy-‘oo-lived, no?” Fleur smirked at him, clearly confident in her assessment, but Harry frowned lightly.

“I haven’t heard that yet. Well, not in those words anyway.” _I just want to cheer you up. I’m not going to give up my best friend. I feel the urge to protect you sometimes._ “No, it’s a bit more… complicated than that, I think it has more to do with the cologne you smell on me.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m not wearing any.”

Both her eyebrows raised at that, and after a quick glance around, she motioned to the stairs. Fleur exchanged some lewd jokes with Rosmerta as she led Harry up toward her room. Once inside, she cast a quick litany of privacy spells, before turning to him.

“What ‘appened?”

“Skipping a lot of other stuff, the Third task kick started my incubus awakening.” Fleur slowly sat down. “I found out about an hour after I knocked a girl up.” Harry related all he knew to the woman, sorting through what he knew of the Incubus magic he’d learned about. “That’s why I came to you. I don’t know anyone else that has had to deal with people being magically attracted to them.” Fleur nodded, seemingly gathering herself. “I just, what… what can I do?”

The bombshell sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest as her brow knit. “’Arry, the answers I ‘ave are not going to be answers you want to ‘ear.”

“That is effectively the tagline of my autobiography.”

Fleur sighed. With a deep breath, she began. “Many succubae currently ‘ide from ‘uman and wizarding society in the veela colony my family is from. I’ve spoken to them occasionally, because our races are… cousins?” Harry nodded his understanding of her terminology and she continued. “An elder succubus, Rosalyn, spoke to me about many things, and was the first to explain the creation myth- at least, I’d always imagined it a myth- of our races. She said there was a demon king- your Lilu?- whom she called the lord of lust, which forged the ubus, ‘is first and favorite children. They were like ‘im, prone to perversion, but otherwise very human, powerful, to be sure, but ‘appy or serious or playful, like anyone else. And as the incubus’ family grew, so did their power, until they were great ‘eroes and warlords, magical beings powerful enough to draw the ‘atred of nearby cities. The lord of lust was proud of ‘is creation.

“But then ‘is children were massacred, and ‘e was struck with grief. As many fathers would do, ‘e sought revenge. And this is how the sisters of the ubus were made. A contract between the demons of lust and deception led to the sirens, and ‘e worked with the queen of rage to create the veela. ‘Is newest children were created to seduce the jealous, ‘ypocritical men that slaughtered ‘is children, and lead them into death, at the fiery claws of veela or in the watery depths of sirens.

“Like all myths, it was created to explain a natural phenomenon- veela and succubus allure work differently, oui? Veela _inflict_ attraction, like the story says, as a weapon, whereas the ubus _share_ attraction with their partners. And that difference, ‘Arry, is why my advice will not be much ‘elp for you.” Running his hands through his hair, Harry sighed before asking for clarification. “I mean that although some men are driven to the edge of their wits with lust for veela, we do not ‘ave any ‘igher libido in response- in fact, I ‘ave a rather low sex drive.”

“But you can still tell me how to avoid people falling for me against their will, right?”

The woman frowned, leaning forward to rest her arms on her knees. “It would not ‘elp. I just avoid the men that ‘ave the worst time of it- such tactics would not work for you. Those that ‘ave the worst time of it are exactly the ones your magic has selected, and therefore, _you_ will ‘ave _just_ as bad a time of it, no?”

“You’re saying that my magic is pushing me as hard to them as it pushes them to me?” The veela nodded slowly. Harry began to wonder why Lilu wouldn’t mention this to him. “Then how can I fight it?”

“Don’t.” The incubus looked up into the veela’s face, exasperated. “’Arry, you say ‘E-‘oo-must-not-be-named ‘as returned, oui? Then ‘ow can you cast aside such power?” She looked to the side, out of the window, before continuing. “It is not glamorous, but it is… necessary. These women, the ones that would bear your babies, _you_ are not inflicting this on them- they want it, or magic wants them to want it, or fate ‘as decided it should be, but it is not _you_ , oui?” She looked him in the eyes, a sad resolve in hers. “You might be ‘ated for it, but is that so new for you? If your friends are safe, if your country can be saved from disaster?”

Harry sat in silence for a few minutes, and Fleur seemed content to let him think. When he stood and started to excuse himself, the veela stopped him. “’Arry, Rosalyn, she used to say one other thing I think you should know about. The succubus ‘ave always ‘ad a saying- ‘never trust an incubus, for they are their father’s sons.’”

-o-o-

Harry Potter’s walk back to the candy shop was slow and thoughtful as he fruitlessly sorted this information against Lilu’s teachings, Hermione’s hypotheses, and his own experience. Eventually his mental insistence that he could pull together a solution became white noise and he was just staring at the ground a few inches in front of his feet, going through the motions until he found himself lowering his body into the tunnel to the school.

“Quite the disappointing outing, Potter.”

The young incubus drew and leveled his wand in the direction of the words, and watched as a disillusionment charm inked down the dark hair and pale face of Tracey Davis, the same practiced, unaffected, bored look in her dangerous eyes as usual.

“Here I was hoping to watch you turn a veela inside out and you just _talk_ for an hour.” The black-haired girl was standing with her hands in her robe pockets, scuffing at the dirty stone floor with her black Mary Jane. “Not gonna lower that wand, huh? Understandable, I guess.”

“What do you want, Tracey?”

“Aww, no foreplay?” She frowned in disappointment, but her eyes took on a dangerous glint. Harry met the gaze with his own, visibly unbowed, but he was shaken that she didn’t seem fazed by the foot of holly a hand’s breadth away from and steadily aimed at the bridge of her delicate nose. After nearly a minute of staring each other down, the girl finally rolled her eyes, shifting her weight onto her one leg with a sigh, slowly pulling her hand out of her pocket, grasping the tip of her wand between her index finger and thumb, handing it over to the incubus. “Can we _talk_ now?” Harry slowly lowered his wand, now holding one in either hand, and nodded curtly to her. “What do I want… you know I can’t just _answer_ that question straightforward, right? Slytherin cunning and all that.” Tracey made a show of pulling her hair up and away from the shaved section, pulling the mass of stands over her opposite shoulder. “Besides, I get more than enough of what I originally wanted from just… following you about. So, the more important question is what do you want? No, that’s not it.” She bit her plump crimson lip, her blue eyes suddenly lively and questioning as she narrowed them. “Do you even know what you want?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t get it yet do you? You don’t realize why this doesn’t… _excite_ you yet?” Her eyes lit up in genuine (and terrifying) delight, as if she’d just solved a puzzle before anyone around her. She clasped her hands in front of her face, nearly hiding her toothy grin as she made a Lavender-esque noise of excitement. “You don’t know yourself by now? I thought it was so obvious. You were so, so fretful about the dragon- until you had a broom in your hands. You were hesitant with Granger, until she flinched. You were twitchy and agitated until you had a girl trying to beg you to make her cum, but only when you deigned to allow her breath.” She reached both hands out to his shoulders, joy pouring from her expressive eyes. “I get to show you. That makes this so much better.”

“What? How long have you been following me, Tracey?”

“Since the rumor began that you had an invisibility cloak.”

“Why?”

“Seemed like good practice.”

“For what?”

“Following someone that didn’t want to be followed. I want to be a hitwitch but I figure I could eek out a living in investigative journalism or private investigation or some such if need be.” Harry stared into the near-manic eyes of the usually emotionless girl in front of him. “I didn’t expect to find out I was a sexual deviant in the process, but what can you do?” She giggled lightly, pulling her face just a bit closer to his, encroaching on the range lovers linger between kisses. “Do you know why I’m being so open with you, Harry?”

“Because if I tell anyone any of this, you just blab my nature to the _Prophet_ and watch me burn?”

Her gorgeous gunmetal eyes rolled with disdain, and she backed her face away a few millimeters. “So untrusting. No, it’s because I’m compromising with you. I know a lot about you, now, and I need you to do something for me, sooo, I’m answering what questions you have, that I can.”

“What do you need from me?”

“That’s a surprise.”

“What?”

“You’ll meet me in the dungeons next Tuesday at dusk, and you’ll find out then.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll blab your nature to the _Prophet_.” She smirked like she’d just made a clever joke, but Harry couldn’t help but feel a touch threatened by her blasé stance toward railroading his future.

“Why are you doing this?”

With a long sigh, Tracey backed away from him, dropping her hands behind her back, tilting her head a bit. “You helped me discover something about myself, so I’d like to do the same for you.”

“No ulterior motive?”

The Slytherin girl’s grin merely widened, her eyes twinkling as she held out her hand until Harry placed her wand in it.

“See you next Tuesday, Potter.”

-o-o-

His world spinning, the white noise from earlier became a backdrop to repetitions of Tracey’s giggling and the strange lilt in her voice as she spoke his name. He’d stashed the cloak in his pocket, wandering up toward the common room, unsure if he was breaking curfew. His stress had hit levels he hadn’t imagined possible, even in the midst of the Heir of Slytherin and Fourth Champion debacles. He leaned his head against the wall and droned out the Fat Lady’s incessant prattling.

How the fuck was he going to fix all this?

Finally grunting the password, Harry shambled into the common room and made it over to his friends. Ron was playing chess with Neville, and Hermione and Ginny were watching. As he approached, Ginny cast a look his way, tilting her head in response to his sour mood.

“Must’ve been quite the conversation.” Hermione didn’t even look up from the game, and Harry felt like there was some… irritation in her voice, before deciding he was probably just imagining it.

“Nah, went about usual, walk back took longer. Snake in my path.” Ginny groaned and Hermione offered up a noise of acknowledgement. Ron and Neville continued with their game after curt nods of greeting, not having heard the trio’s exchange.

As she spoke up, Harry was suddenly entranced by Ginny’s midriff. Her shirt had been tied up and her skirt rode low, likely an attempt to stay cool in the warm afternoon air that she hadn’t gotten around to fixing just yet, as the evening was far from cool. It wasn’t obscene, but Harry became fixated on her tight stomach, and how defined her waist-to-hip curve was, her athleticism bleeding into sexuality as her defined lower abdominals drew his gaze downward with the subtle v into the band of her skirt. Closing his eyes, he shook his head, forcing himself to hear what she’d asked. “Blonde or black?”

“Black.” Harry opened his eyes, only to find himself leering again, before pulling his eyes back up to Ginny’s face, where she merely looked at him with a raised eyebrow. She’d caught him. With a blush, he pulled his eyes over to Hermione, only to find her looking at him with confusion in her eyes, her face cycling through a handful of emotions he couldn’t place in the slightest, before she closed her eyes and shook her head lightly, looking to the chessboard again.

“We’ll discuss it later, then.” The incubus was taken aback by the finality in the brunette’s tone, but after opening his mouth to answer, he closed it hastily, glancing back to Ginny again, before looking out over the common room…

And making eye contact with a curious set of bourbon irises. “You okay, Harry?” Ginny asked behind him, and he felt her hand atop his, trying to get his attention. “You seem a bit out of it.” The dusky girl across the room glanced at the exit of the common room, before returning her gaze to his, tipping her head up with a questioning look on her face.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m just a little confused, Gin. I’ll be fine.” Harry nodded as imperceptibly as he could, and Parvati stood, leaving a frowning Lavender with a word and making her way to the exit painting. “I’m gonna go for a walk though.” He turned to face the group. Ginny looked concerned, and Hermione was focused on the one-sided chess match with an intensity that didn’t seem entirely normal. With a mental sigh, Harry resolved to handle this new turn of events- later, when he wasn’t mentally exhausted.

“Clear your head?” Ginny asked, and Harry found himself struggling not to think about dipping his tongue into her navel.

“Something like that. I’ll catch you guys later.”

As Harry walked away, a suddenly strong voice rose from the white noise between his ears to point out that a walk with Parvati was the opposite of working on his problems, but it quickly fell back into the sea of troubles and was drowned out by his constantly competing inner monologues. Stepping out of the door, Parvati was leaning against the opposite wall from the painting, and greeted him with a genuine, shy smile. “So, do I finally get to see the fabled cloak, or are we going the risky route?”

“Does everyone know about my cloak?”

“Almost all of Gryffindor, and anyone who listens to Ron for more than a moment.” Parvati took a few steps toward him, clasping her hands in front of her chest and widening her already large eyes. “Pweease let me see it?” With a grin, he pulled the cloak from his pocket, unfurling it before draping it around himself, all but his head disappearing into thin air. The look of wonder that flashed across her face filled Harry with pride and adoration, her unabashed cuteness nearly drove his raging arousal out of his mind.

Her squeal of delight as he scooped her up in his arms bridal style undid that, reminding him of the noises she made in the hallway that afternoon, and he found himself growling to her as he fought to control himself. “Pull the hood up.” He started walking, cradling her petite body against his chest as she muttered a ‘yessir’ into his neck, her lips planted there for most of the walk. Somewhere in the back of his mind he noted that he normally wouldn’t be able to carry her around- even as slight as she was- without any sort of tax on his body, but questions about his newfound strength faded from his mind the more her lips worked the skin of his neck. “I need you to know,” Harry started to explain as he carried her up a flight of stairs, “That I’ve been incredibly frustrated all day. I don’t know if it was detention with the toad, or the needy girl waiting outside after-“ the girl in his arms moaned an affirmation into his neck, nipping at his skin in amusement- “Or if it was sitting in a room with a Veela immediately afterward for upward of an hour, but my control is waning very, very quickly. That is to say, if you keep teasing me…” Harry leaned down to bite the girl’s earlobe and whisper to her “I’m gonna fucking lose it.”

The dusky girl pulled away from his neck, biting his earlobe in return and breathing out, “Good.” Abandoning his plan to take her to the top of the tower, the incubus shifts her, spinning her in his arms so that her legs wrap around his waist, and pins the girl to the nearest wall. His hand finds her jaw, tilting her head back and then they’re kissing with bruising passion. Moaning into his mouth, her hands find their way down his torso, groping him needily as she mutters between kisses. “I need this, I need it inside me, please, Harry.”

Unthinkingly, he obliges her. His pants are around his ankles in seconds, her small hands having made quick work of his belt and fly, while he attempts to pull her flimsy thong down her legs. Losing patience, he grips one side of the garment and pulls roughly, snapping the fabric easily, drawing an excited squeal for the girl in his arms. Quickly shifting her in his arms, Harry pins the Indian witch against the wall by her shoulders, her knees held up by his elbows, her body bent nearly cleanly in half. Thrusting against her, he grinds against her mound, head bumping clit a handful of strokes, until she reaches down and guides him into her dripping hole. She can’t contain her moans as he starts slamming into her, repeatedly bottoming out in her tiny body. She keeps one hand low, fingers working her clit under her bunched up skirt while she stares wide-eyed and open mouthed at the Incubus taking her so roughly. Her other hand makes repeated fails at gripping his shirt, his chest, his neck, anything to stabilize herself as she takes his monstrous cock inside her virginal sheath. The dull ache from being stretched farther than she’d ever been before paled in comparison to the raw pleasure of the moment, the passion in his face and the public setting she’d never dared imagine her cherry-popping to take place in.

Harry’s grunts and growls punctuated Parvati’s panting moans, while the underlying sounds of his hips meeting her thighs and his weighty balls smacking her ass provided the rhythm for their lustful song. Her fingers kept working at her clit, and her fingers finally found purchase in his shoulder, her nails digging into his skin through his shirt. “H-Harry, I’m… I’m gonna-“

“Good.” He didn’t change his pace in the slightest, continuing to slam into the girl roughly and methodically, like a machine. Even as her eyes rolled back, her moans peaking and then dying as she held her mouth open in a silent scream, he continued. Her legs locked out, reaching up above his head with her toes, and she seemingly tried to draw blood with her fingernails in his shoulder, all while he pounded into her cunt with a steady, powerful rhythm.

When she went limp, gasping in his arms, he finally slowed to a stop, laughing when she groaned. “You didn’t even last five minutes.”

“You didn’t finish.”

“No, but I’m going to.”

“Good.”

“Not here though.” He pumped out and back in one time, to illustrate.

“But I’m on-“

“I can’t.”

Parvati bit her lip. Pushing his hips back until he came free of her, she made sure to maintain eye contact with him. “Push my legs, a bit farther,” she muttered as her hands found his throbbing erection, stroking it slowly. Harry brought her knees up from his elbows, gripping one in each hand and pushing until they were on either side of her head, well and truly bending her in half, with her tiny black thong hanging around one of her knees now, half destroyed. She led him by his most sensitive organ, forward again, using both of her hands to slowly direct him just below where he’d just pulled out of. “I _need_ it inside me, Harry. Please?”

Harry knew he should question this, he knew he was likely to hurt her, and that she only felt this way because of his effect on her. He told himself, with his last bit of willpower, to tell her no, to just use her mouth. “Please what, Parvati?” was what he said instead.

Her gorgeous brown eyes poured her lust into his handsome emerald ones. “Please cum in my ass, Harry.”

With a smirk, he started to push. “Good girl.” As his head started to push into her crushing heat, he repeated it, “good girl.” He watched her face, adorable as it was, framed by her knees and calves, as he pushed, millimeter by millimeter, into her untouched hole. The pain was impossible for her to hide, biting her lip and gasping as she’s stretched much farther than ever before, but the raw lust was just as plain on her face. She muttered curses and his name, almost reverently, but made no move or noise for him to stop. Nearing the three-quarters point of his bestial cock, she put a hand to his chest, and he paused.

“Wait, wait.” She breathed heavily for a second, clearly taxed by the process of losing her anal virginity. Harry tried to force himself to ask if she wanted to stop, to see if she wanted to back out. Instead, after her breathing leveled, he asked, “Ready?” When she nodded, he forced the last reaches of his manhood in at once, bottoming out in her bottom and pulling a scream from the girl. He kissed her forehead as she looked up at him with a pained expression. “Good girl. You did great.” Her panting mouth pulled up into a slight grin, and a sense of pride came to her face. “And you feel fucking amazing.” That made her smile turn lecherous, mischief sparkling in her bourbon eyes again.

“Cum for me, Harry.” With a growl, he pulled out a few inches and then drove back home, his eyes nearly rolling back at the feeling of her tight walls around him. He started to pump in and out of her, slowly, carefully. After just a few seconds of this, he hears her low gasps start to turn to moans, and watches as she deliberately moves a hand down from where she’d been grasping his to where they’re joined, feeling him push in and out of her ass with her fingers. “Mmm.” She’s clearly impressed with herself, but then her breath starts to hitch again, as her fingers move up, teasing her clit again. The incubus starts to fuck her with more strength, more speed, using her as she’d asked him to while she flicks her clit, getting off on being used here in a hallway. “This is so hot, Harry. I’m getting off on you buggering me.” Parvati pushes two, then three fingers deep into her dripping cunt, her thumb working her clit quickly. “I’m gonna cum from you fucking my ass. God, I need you to cum for me.” She’s nearly shouting at him, her voice soaked in lust, and Harry finds himself panting as he fucks her hard and fast, seeking only to empty himself within her. “Please, Harry! I need your cum deep in my ass! Please!” With a grunt, he releases, slamming balls deep in her ass and holding himself there, twitching as rope after rope blasts into her. She lets out a keening moan in response, her fingers going wild between their hips. “Fuck, I’m cumming! I’m cumming from you finishing in my bum! Fuck…”

Harry presses his forehead to hers as they both come down from their highs together. Slowly, he leans back, allowing her to unfold herself onto her unsteady legs, and she immediately falls into him. Hugging him, they’re panting and laughing softly, and Harry realizes he’d been visible from the knee down the whole time, and also that he’d have to pull his trousers up at some point. Not right now though.

The wizard presses a kiss to the witch’s lips without really thinking about it. “I needed that.”

“Mmm.” The well-fucked girl muttered in agreement. “I’m going to need it again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Apologies, dear readers. School+girlfriend+lack of motivation. Hopefully I’ll be up and running again. Got some ideas to move forward with, even if the overall plot of this story has evolved in my… hiatus. Oh. And I was going to go back and edit out a previous “Americanism-“ someone gave someone the middle finger, which is fuckin weird in Britain, and I probably will fix it eventually, but not right now.


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